Sherlock: The Adventures of Scarlett Holmes
by Yurixo
Summary: Scarlett Holmes is the daughter of the great detective Sherlock Holmes. All the stories will be base on the Adventure of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not own any of the characters except Scarlett and Jennalie.
1. The Hounds of the Baskervilles Part 1

John walked into the living room and sat on his favorite armchair. Sherlock had left a couple hours ago to solve a case, and he was enjoying the peace and quiet. Yes, that's what he needed. He picked up the morning paper from the table and started to read it, until someone yelled "I'M BORED!"

John gave a heavy sigh and saw the young teenager standing next to the door, frowning at him.

She was Scarlett Holmes, the only daughter of the famous consulting detective of Sherlock Holmes. Her curly black hair was loose, she was wearing her short gym pants, a grey shirt, had some makeup on, and her greenish-blue eyes were glaring at him.

"You wouldn't be bored if you hadn't been suspended from school," he replied casually, turning back to his paper.

"It's not my fault that I punched Samantha in the face," she protested, waving her hands in the air.

John lifts up the paper again and pretends to read it. Scarlett just went back to school a week ago, and things went well until Sherlock got a phone call from the headmaster to tell him that Scarlett was suspended from school for punching one of her class mates during lunch. When Sherlock and John arrived the school they found out (well Sherlock did) the classmate Scarlett punched was the headmaster's daughter.

"Well you should be glad they didn't expel you. Why did you punch her in the face anyway?" John asked as he lowered the paper a little to face her.

"She called me a freak for knowing people's life without knowing them and living with two dads," she replied casually as she made her coffee in the kitchen.

"I'm not gay!" John protest.

"Then try not to act like you are!" she argued back with a hiss.

John took a deep breath to hold on his anger.

"Did your dad take away your iPod?" John asked.

"Yes." Scarlett muttered, looking down at her hands.

"Good," said John and he went back reading his paper.

"Where is he anyway?" Scarlett asked as she sat on her father's favorite arm chair, swinging her legs over the arms.

"He went to solve a case," John replied.

"Good, he hasn't had one in a week." said Scarlett as she drank her cup of coffee.

"I hope this one doesn't bore him." said John as he rolled his eyes.

Ten minutes later the living room door bursts open and Sherlock charged in, stopping just inside the room and slamming the end of the harpoon onto the ground. John and Scarlett looked round and their eyes widened at the sight of Sherlock, who was wearing black trousers and a white shirt. His entire body was covered with dark red spurts of blood.

"Well, that was tedious." Sherlock uttered, rolling his eyes.

"You went on the tube like that?" John asked, astounded.

"None of the cabs would take me," Sherlock replied looking irritated as he left the room to go clean himself.

"Please don't tell me you walked around London like that," Scarlett looked at him with disgust. "What if someone recognized you?"

Sherlock ignored her and walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Later he is back in the room, having cleaned himself up and changed into a clean shirt and trousers with one of his blue dressing gowns over the top. Still carrying the harpoon and pacing rapidly between the door and the window, looking repeatedly at John and Scarlett as they flicked through the newspaper.

"Nothing?" Sherlock asked impatiently, glaring at John.

"Military coup in Uganda," John replied, rolling his eyes.

"Hmmm," Sherlock hummed as he paced around the room. While Scarlett was flicking through the newspaper, she started to giggle, then laugh uncontrollably.

"What are you laughing about?" Sherlock asked, staring at her gleeful face.

"Nothing, there's just another picture of you wearing that hat," Scarlett chuckled, finishing off her coffee.

Sherlock made a disgusted noise and continue to pace around the room.

"Oh, um, Cabinet reshuffle," said John as he pointed the newspaper, looking at Sherlock with a smirk.

"Nothing of importance?"

After he said that, he slammed the end of the harpoon onto the ground and roared with rage, "Oh, God! Will the madness end?"

Both John and Scarlett rolled their eyes for they were getting annoyed with Sherlock's boredom.

"Wow, you're worse than me. Maybe you should go to school for me." Scarlett teased with a smile.

"Dull." Sherlock replied, rolling his eyes.

Sherlock was now looking at John with intensity, and he said to him, "John, I need some. Get me some."

John just looked at him. "No." he replied calmly folding his paper up.

"Get me some." Sherlock continue to argue.

"No." John replied more loudly.

John drops the newspaper and points at Sherlock sternly, "Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what. Anyway, you've paid everyone off, remember? No-one within a two mile radius will sell you any."

"Stupid idea. Whose idea was that?" Sherlock asked, looking to the heavens for guidance.

Both Sherlock and John were looking at Scarlett. She clears her throat pointedly and tried to avoid their gaze.

Sherlock looked at the empty door and shouted, "Mrs. Hudson!"

"Look, Sherlock, you're doing really well. Don't give up now." Said John as he stands to help his friend who was hurling paper off the tables as he searches desperately for what he needs.

But Sherlock ignored him and continues to look for them, "Tell me where they are. Please. Tell me."

John and Scarlett remain silent, Sherlock straightens up and turns his most appealing puppy-dog eyes on them, hesitating before he speaks and almost developing the word a couple of times before actually speaking it.  
"Please." He begged.

Scarlett and John looked at each other then look at Sherlock, "No."

"I'll let you know next week's lottery number."

John chuckled.

Sherlock then looked at his daughter, "I'll give your iPod back."

"They are…." But Scarlett trailed off when she saw John's glare.

"Get the iPod, and I'll phone Mycroft to send you back to school." John threatened her.

Scarlett frowned and looked at her father, "Sorry I can't."

"It was worth a try." Sherlock uttered.

He looks around the room, and then hurls himself to the floor in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Hudson arrives at the door and comes in.

"Ooh-ooh," said Mrs. Hudson as she walked in.

"My secret supply! What have you done with my secret supply?" Sherlock yelled as he continued to scrabble around the fireplace.

"Eh?" Mrs. Hudson looked at him with confusion.

"His Cigarettes," said Scarlett, rolling her eyes.

"What have you done with them? Where are they?" Sherlock continued to yell, throwing his books onto the floor.

"You know you never let me touch your things! Ooh, chance would be a fine thing," said Mrs. Hudson as she looked around at the mess in the flat.

Sherlock got up and was now facing her, "I thought you weren't my housekeeper."

"I'm not," said Mrs. Hudson as she glared at him.

Sherlock stomps back over to the harpoon and picks it up again. Behind him, Mrs. Hudson looks down at John and Scarlett who mimes for her to offer Sherlock a drink. She looks at Sherlock again.

"How about a nice cuppa, and perhaps you could put away your harpoon."

"Yes, that actually sounds good right now Mrs. Hundson. Oh My Gosh Dad put that harpoon away!" Scarlett yelled at her father.

"I need something stronger than tea. Seven per cent stronger."

He glared out of the window, then turned back towards Mrs. Hudson and aimed the harpoon at her. She flinches. "You've been to see Mr. Chatterjee again."

Mrs. Hundson looked at him with confusion at his remark, "Pardon?"

Sherlock pointed his harpoon at her hands "Thumbnail, tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads don't we?"

He sniffs deeply as he finally stops aiming the harpoon at her, "Mmm… Kasbah Nights. Pretty racy for first thing on a Monday morning, wouldn't you agree? I've written a little blog on the identification of perfumes. It's on the website – you should look it up."

Mrs. Hundson rolled her eyes, "Please"

"I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr. Chatterjee. He's got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about."

"Sherlock!"

"Dad!"

"Well, nobody except me." Sherlock protested.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I really don't."

She storms out of the flat, slamming the living room door closed as she goes. Sherlock leaps over the back of his chair from behind it, and then sits on the seat, wrapping his arms around his knees like a moody child. John slams his newspaper down while Scarlett stands next to him, as she crosses her arms on her chest.

"What the bloody hell was all that about?" John asked

"You don't understand," said Sherlock as he rocked himself back and forth.

"Dad, go down there and apologize," said Scarlett sternly.

Sherlock looked up and looked at her with confusion, "Apologize?"

"Yes, Sherlock! Go down and apologize." John took Scarlett's side, looking at Sherlock pleadingly.

Sherlock sigh, "Oh, John and Scarlett, I envy you both so much."

Both Scarlett and John looked at each other and gave the "What did he just say?" look and looked at him again with curiosity.

"You envy us?" John asked

"Your minds: so placid, straightforward, and barely used. Mine's like an engine, racing out of control; a rocket tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad," said Sherlock as he dozes up but still looked stressed.

"Whoa! Remember I'm half of you and I use my mind more than you think!" Scarlett protested as she raises her finger to silence him.

"I need a case!" Sherlock yelled frantically.

"You've just solved one! By harpooning a dead pig, apparently!" John yelled back irritated.

Sherlock jumps up in the air and then lands in the seated position on the chair and started drumming the fingers of both hands on the arms of the chair while stomping his feet on the floor.

"That was this morning! When's the next one?" Sherlock asked impatiently through clenched teeth.

"Nothing on the website?" Scarlett asked trying to calm both of the two grown men.

Sherlock gets up and walks over to the table, collects his laptop and hands it to John, who looks at the message on there while Sherlock stomps over the window.

"Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I can't find Bluebell anywhere. Please, please, please can you help?"

"Bluebell?" said John with confusion.

"A rabbit, John!" Sherlock yelled, as if it were the most obvious thing.

"Oh" both John and Scarlett uttered.

"Ah, but there's more! Before Bluebell disappeared, she turned luminous ..." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"So the rabbit glows in the dark?" Scarlett raised a brow with disbelief.

""Like a fairy," Sherlock replied with a high squeaky voice.

"According to little Kirsty; then the next morning, Bluebell was gone! Hutch was still locked no sign of a forced entry ..." Sherlock trailed off and his expression became intense.

"Ah! What am I saying? This is brilliant! Phone Lestrade. Tell him there's a missing rabbit."

Both Scarlett and John gave him a weird look, "Are you serious?"

"It's this, or Cluedo." Sherlock told them, with a small smile.

"Ah, no!" said John as he closed the laptop to put it back on the desk. "We are never playing that again!"

"Never," Scarlett whispered as she rolled her eyes.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Because it's not actually possible for the victim to have done it, Sherlock, that's why." John pointed out to him.

"Well, it was the only possible solution." Sherlock scoffed.

"It's not in the rules." Scarlett reminded him.

"Then the rules are wrong!" Sherlock yelled furiously.

All the sudden the doorbell rings. John holds up a finger thoughtfully, while Scarlett stood next to the door, as Sherlock looks towards the living room door.

"Single ring." John pointed out.

"Maximum pressure." Scarlett whispered.

"Just under the half second." Said Sherlock.

They all look at each other and whispered, "Client."


	2. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 2

Scarlett was now sitting in the couch watching a recording of a documentary that was playing on the TV. She looked at her father who was now sitting in his favorite arm chair, watching the documentary, and looking bored. John was sitting on the dining chair near Sherlock and an unknown man sitting in John's arm chair.

Sherlock gave a small sigh, pick up the remote control and turned off the footage.

"Why did you turn it off?" Scarlett raised her voice, since the documentary was getting really intense.

"What did you see?" Sherlock ignored his daughter question and looked at Henry with boredom.

"Oh. I ... I was just about to say." said Henry as he points to the television.

"Yes, in a TV interview. I prefer to do my own editing." Sherlock replied casually while Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"Yes. Sorry, yes, of course. Excuse me." Henry reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a paper napkin and wipes his nose on it.

"In your own time." Said John casually

"But quite quickly." Sherlock added

"Dad!" Scarlett hissed.

"If you're planning to hiss and yell at all day I will ask you to go to your room." Sherlock raised his voice.

Scarlett glared at him with her green eyes (her eyes turn green when she's mad); crossed her arms on her chest, and didn't say a word.

"Good" Sherlock nod and faced Henry again.

Henry lowered his napkin and looked at Sherlock in the eye, "Do you know Dartmoor, Mr. Holmes?"

"No,"

"It's an amazing place. It's like nowhere else. It's sort of ... bleak but beautiful." said Henry as he gazed at the window.

"Mmm, not interested. Moving on." said Sherlock still sounding bored.

"We used to go for walks, after my mum died, my dad and me. Every evening we'd go out onto the moor." said Henry trying not to look offended by Sherlock's words.

"Yes, good. Skipping to the night that your dad was violently killed. Where did that happen?" said Sherlock casually.

Both John's and Scarlett's eyes raise skywards at Sherlock's insensitive question.

"There's a place – it's... it's a sort of local landmark called Dewar's Hollow." He gazes at Sherlock who tilts his head at him as if to say, "And...?"

"That's an ancient name for the Devil." Henry whispered.

Scarlett looked at Henry with confusion, "So?"

"Did you see the Devil that night?" John asked calmly.

His face haunted with memories, Henry looks across to him and nods. "Yes" he whispered.

"Can you tell us what it looked like?" Scarlett asked curiously.

"It was huge. Coal-black fur with red eyes." said Henry as he closed his eyes to remember the demon that killed his father.

"What did the Devil do Henry?" Scarlett asked.

"It got him, tore at him, tore him apart." said Henry tearfully.

Scarlett looked at her father who was now looking at Henry intensely.

"I can't remember anything else. They found me the next morning, just wandering on the moor. My dad's body was never found."

The room became quiet, so quiet you could hear cars driving by the street.

"Would you like some tea Henry?" Scarlett asked as she got up from the couch.

"Yes, please." Henry nodded at her.

Scarlett gave him a quick small and slowly walks to the kitchen to make tea for everyone.

"Hmm. Red eyes, coal-black fur, enormous dog? Wolf?" said John as he looks across to Sherlock.

"Or a genetic experiment." Said Sherlock as he looks away, biting back a smile.

"Are you laughing at me, Mr. Holmes?" said Henry looking offended.

"Why, are you joking?" asked Sherlock.

"My dad was always going on about the things they were doing at Baskerville; about the type of monsters they were breeding there. People used to laugh at him. At least the TV people took me seriously." Henry raised his voice.

"And, I assume, did wonders for Devon tourism." Sherlock was now gazing up at the ceiling.

"Yeah" John replied uncomfortably.

"Anyone want tea?" Scarlett walked in, holding a plate that was carrying four cups of tea.

"Not now Scarlett." Sherlock replied, looking annoyed about his daughter interruption.

"No, it's alright." Henry smiled at her and took a sip of tea.

"Thank you Scarlett." John grabbed the tea and smiled up at her.

"Dad?" Scarlett raised a brow.

"Later." He replied harshly.

Scarlett holds back her disappointment, took her cup of tea, sat in the couch, and drank her tea quietly.

"Henry, whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?" John asked.

"I'm not sure you can help me, Mr. Holmes, since you find it all so funny." Henry raised his voice. He got up from his chair and headed to the door.

"Now look what you have done!" Scarlett yelled at her father.

"Because of what happened last night." said Sherlock as he watched Henry leave?

"Why, what happened last night?" John raised a brow.

Henry turns back towards them, "How ... how do you know?"

"I didn't know; I noticed." Sherlock replied with sarcasm.

John shuffles on his chair with an "Oh dear lord, here we go" expression on his face.

"You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning. You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl in the seat across the aisle fancied you. Although you were initially keen, you've now changed your mind. You are, however, extremely anxious to have your first cigarette of the day. Sit down, Mr. Knight, and do please smoke. I'd be delighted." said Sherlock quickly.

"Whatever you do don't give him a cigarette." Scarlett warned him.

"I didn't tell him to give me a cigarette." Sherlock protest.

"Just don't give him one okay." Scarlett replied as she rest her head on her hand.

"How on earth did you notice all that? Henry asked with amazement.

"It's not important ..."before John could finish his sentence Sherlock already cut him off.

"Punched-out holes where your ticket's been checked ..."

"Not now, Sherlock." John tried to stop Sherlock doing his deduction.

"Oh please. I've been cooped up in here for ages." Sherlock protest as he glared at John.

"Oh yes you have!" said Scarlett as she glare at her father.

"Watch your tone and stop glaring at me like that!" Sherlock raised his voice.

"You're just showing off." said John trying to break off the fight between father and daughter.

"Of course. I am a show-off. That's what we do." Sherlock defend himself.

"Why don't I show off then?" Scarlett raised her brow as a challenge.

"Okay, tell me what you can deduce." Sherlock was now giving her a mysterious smile.

"Fine! The train napkin that you used to mop up the spilled coffee: the strength of the stain shows that you didn't take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it and round your lips and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast – or the nearest thing those trains can manage. Probably a sandwich." said Scarlett with pride.

"How did you know it was disappointing?" said Henry with sob and awed.

Before Scarlett open her mouth to speak her father cut her off. "Is there any other type of breakfast on a train? The girl – female handwriting's quite distinctive. Wrote her phone number down on the napkin. I can tell from the angle she wrote at that she was sat across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later – after she got off, I imagine – you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidentally smudging the numbers. You've been over the last four digits yourself with another pen, so you wanted to keep the number. Just now, though, you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you're not that into her after all. Then there's the nicotine stains on your fingers ... your shaking fingers. I know the signs."

"It was my turn, remember?" Scarlett raised her voice to remind him.

"Oh, please you're making it sound all boring! No chance to smoke one on the train; no time to roll one before you got a cab here." said Sherlock as he looks at his watch.

"It's just after nine fifteen. You're desperate. The first train from Exeter to London leaves at five forty-six a.m. You got the first one possible, so something important must have happened last night. Am I wrong?" Sherlock asked with intense.

Henry just stared at him with amazement and finally said, "No"

Sherlock smiles smugly. John takes a drink from his mug to hide his "oh gosh" look. Scarlett on the other hand was still glaring at her father and drank her tea quietly.

"You're right. You're completely, exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you were quick." Said Henry with awestruck.

"It's my job." Sherlock smirked. He leans forward in his seat and glares at Henry intensely.

"Now shut up and smoke!" Sherlock raised his voice.

Both John and Scarlett frown towards him. As Henry takes out a roll-up and lights it, John consults the notes he's taken so far.

"Um, Henry, your parents both died and you were, what, seven years old?" John asked.

Henry is concentrating on taking his first drag on his cigarette. As he exhales his first lungful, Sherlock stands up and steps closer to him.

"I know. That ... my ..." Henry trailed off.

He stops as Sherlock leans into the smoke drifting up from the cigarette and from Henry's mouth and breathes in deeply. Having sucked up most of the smoke, he sits down again and breathes out. John rolled his eyes while Scarlett covered her face with her hands with embarrassment.

"That must be a ... quite a trauma. Have you ever thought that maybe you invented this story, this ..." John trailed off when he saw Sherlock standing up.

Henry has exhaled another lungful of smoke and Sherlock dives in to noisily hoover up the smoke again. John pauses patiently until he sits down again.

"... to account for it?" John finished his sentence.

"That's what Doctor Mortimer says." Henry smirks.

"Who?" John asked.

"His therapist." Both Sherlock and Scarlett replied.

"My therapist." said Henry almost simultaneously.

John glances at Scarlett, "Obviously." She shrugs her shoulder.

Henry sigh, "Louise Mortimer. She's the reason I came back to Dartmoor. She thinks I have to face my demons."

"And what happened when you went back to Dewer's Hollow last night, Henry? You went there on the advice of your therapist and now you're consulting a detective. What did you see that changed everything?" asked Sherlock while looking at Henry with intense.

"It's a strange place, the Hollow. Makes you feel so cold inside, so afraid." Henry whispered, while holding the cigarette in his hand and gaze at the window.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Yes, if I wanted poetry, I'd read John's emails to his girlfriends, much funnier."

Scarlett covered her mouth from laughing (she had hacked into John's email before), while John sighs hard in an attempt to release the tension that might make him kill his flat mate.

"What did you see?" Sherlock raised his voice.

"Footprints. On the exact spot where I saw my father torn apart."

Looking exasperated, Sherlock leans back in his seat.

"Man's or a woman's?" John asked while taking notes.

"Neither. They were ..." but Sherlock cut him off.

"Is that it? Nothing else. Footprints. Is that all?""

"Yes, but they were ..."

Sherlock cut him off again, "No, sorry, Doctor Mortimer wins. Childhood trauma masked by an invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr. Knight. Thank you for smoking.

Henry's eyes were wide from Sherlock's response, "No, but what about the footprints?"

"Oh, they're probably paw prints; could be anything, therefore nothing."

Sherlock leans forward in his seat and flicks his fingers at Henry, gesturing him towards the door.

"Off to Devon with you; have a cream tea on me." Sherlock stands up and buttons his jacket. He heads into the kitchen while Henry turns in his seat to look at him.

"Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!" Henry yelled.

Sherlock stops dead in his tracks, then slowly turns and comes back to the kitchen doorway and stares down at Henry.

"Say that again." said Scarlett looking at Henry with intense but also excitement.

"I found the footprints; they were ..." but Sherlock cut him off.

"No, no, no, your exact words. Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them."

Henry thinks for a second, then slowly recites his words back to him, "Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic ... hound."

Sherlock raises his head and looks at Scarlett who was smiling at him as if she was thinking the same thing as he was.

"I'll take the case."


	3. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 3

"Sorry what?" John was startled by Sherlock's statement.

Sherlock in a prayer position in front of his mouth and begins to pace slowly across the living room, "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It's very promising."

John shook his head with skepticism, "No-no-no, sorry, what? A minute ago, footprints were boring; now they're very promising?"

"It's nothing to do with footprints. As ever, John, you weren't listening. Baskerville: ever heard of it?" Scarlett mocked him.

"Vaguely. It's very hush-hush." said John.

"Sounds like a good place to start." said Sherlock as he heads to his room.

"Ah! You'll come down, then?" Henry asked with excitement.

"No, I can't leave London at the moment, far too busy. Don't worry – putting my best man and girl onto It." said Sherlock as he pat both John and Scarlett's shoulder.

"Always rely on John to send me the relevant data, as he never understands a word of it himself. And Scarlett who's also observant, but rarely use It." said Sherlock with mockery.

"What are you talking about, you're busy?" Scarlett raised her voice.

"Agree, you don't have a case! A minute ago you were complaining ..." but before John could finish Sherlock interrupt him; again.

"Bluebell, John! I've got Bluebell! The case of the vanishing, glow-in-the-dark rabbit! NATO's in uproar." Sherlock yelled with excitement.

"Oh, sorry, no, you're not coming, then?" Henry asked again.

Putting on a regretful expression, Sherlock shakes his head sadly, while John and Scarlett groan.

"Give it to him John." Scarlett uttered for she had realized she had lost another game to her father.

"Okay." said John as he got up from his chair.

He walks over to the mantelpiece and picks up the skull, taking a packet of cigarettes from underneath it. He turns and tosses the packet across to Sherlock, who catches it and suddenly tosses it over his shoulder.

"I don't need those any more. I'm going to Dartmoor." said Sherlock with a big smirk in his face.

"You go on ahead, Henry. We'll follow later." Scarlett smirked at Henry.

"Er, sorry, so you are coming?" Henry looked at Sherlock with confusion in his face.

"Twenty year old disappearance; a monstrous hound? I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Sherlock howled and was now out of the room.

Henry still looking confused looked at Scarlett.

"Is he always like that?" he asked.

Scarlett nod her head, "Oh yeah."

Later, John carries two large bags out onto the street, shuts the front door and walks over to Sherlock who is holding a taxi door open. And Scarlett who was sitting in the back of the taxi seats, her luggage underneath her foot, and was listening to her I-Pod. Next door in Speedy's, Mrs. Hudson is shouting furiously at Mr. Chatterjee.

"Oh! Looks like Mrs. Hudson finally got to the wife in Doncaster." John joked.

"Wait 'til she finds out about the one in Islamabad." said Scarlett with a smirk in her face.

"I thought you had your I-Pod taken away." John recapped her.

"Dad gave it back to me." Scarlett protest.

John frowned at Sherlock.

"I'd want her silent rather than screaming "I'm bored." Sherlock protest.

John shook his head with distress, "Great parenting…" John muttered.

John sniggers and gets into the taxi. Sherlock follows him in.

"When this case is over you're still grounded." John gave her a threatening.

"If I remind you John you are not my father." Scarlett reminded him.

"Yeah, but your father is doing a suckish job at it. " said John as he glared at Sherlock.

"John, what did I tell you about not acting gay." Said Scarlett as she switches her music.

"Shut Up!" John yelled at her.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Paddington Station, please."

Sherlock, John, and Scarlett were driving across the moors in a large black Land Rover jeep. Sherlock is driving, John looking at the beautiful scenery with boredom, while Scarlett was looking at her laptop and gave her father direction. Sometime later, away from the road, Sherlock is standing large stone outcrop while John stands at the foot of it consulting a map and Scarlett still in the car looking for a place to stay. Sherlock points ahead of himself at a large array of buildings in the distance.

"There's Baskerville. That's Grimpen Village" said John while pointing at different places.

"So that must be ... yeah, it's Dewer's Hollow."

Sherlock points to an area in between the complex and the Hollow.

"What's that?"

John lifts his black binocular and looks more closely at the fencing and the warning signs.

"Minefield? Technically Baskerville's an army base, so I guess they've always been keen to keep people out." John replied.

"Clearly." Sherlock uttered.

Sherlock climbed down the rock slowly; him and John walked toward the car and were ready to drive to Grimpen Village.

"Any hotels there?" John asked Scarlett.

"Just one, Cross Keys inn" Scarlett replied still eying her laptop.

"Really?" John raised his brow with disbelief.

"Well, it's a small village so it kind of makes sense having only one hotel." Scarlett replied.

"Obviously." Sherlock uttered and they all drove away silently.

Later, they drive into Grimpen Village and pull into the car park of the Cross Keys inn. They get out and walk towards the entrance of the pub, where a young man who is apparently a tour guide is talking to a group of tourists.

"Three times a day, tell your friends. Tell anyone!" yelled the tour guide.

The tour guide glanced at Scarlett and gave her a quick smile.

"Don't be strangers, and remember ... stay away from the moor at night if you value your lives!"

Sherlock pulls his overcoat around him as he walks towards the pub and pops the collar. John looks round at him pointedly.

"I'm cold" he uttered and walk pass John and Scarlett.

In Cross Keys Inn; Sherlock prowls around the pub, John at the bar checking in, and Scarlett sitting in one of the chairs in the Inn. The manager and barman, hands John some keys.

"Eh, sorry we couldn't do a double room for you boys." The manager apologized.

"That's fine. We-we're not ..." but before John could finish he saw the smug expressive smile on the manager's face and gives up.

"There you go." Said John as he hand money to him.

"Oh, ta. I'll just get your change." The manager walks to the till.

John looked at Scarlett who was now giving him a shadowy smile.

"What?" John asked.

"Sorry we couldn't do a double room for you boys." Scarlett repeated the account the manager made but with more dramatic.

"Oh, shut up!" John raised his voice.

John's glance falls on a pile of receipts and invoices which have been punched onto a spike on the bar. He frowns as he sees that one is labeled "Under Shaw Meat Supplies". Quickly he reaches out and rips it from the spike, putting it into his pocket as the manager comes back with his change.

"There you go." The manager gave John some change.

"I couldn't help noticing on the map of the moor: skull and crossbones." John asked the manager.

"Oh that, aye." The manager nodded.

"Pirates?" John joked.

The manager shook his head, "Eh, no, no. The Great Grimpen Minefield, they call it."

"Oh, right." John nodded looking like an idiot.

"It's not what you think. It's the Baskerville testing site. It's been going for eighty-odd years. I'm not sure anyone really knows what's there anymore." The manager warned him while wiping the counter.

"Explosives?" Scarlett asked.

"Oh, not just explosives. Break into that place and – if you're lucky – you just get blown up, so they say ... in case you're planning on a nice wee stroll." The manager joked at the two.

"I feel like going there right now actually." Scarlett sighs.

"Scarlett." John warned her.

"Aye. No, it buggers up tourism a bit, so thank God for the demon hound! Did you see that show, that documentary?" the manager asked.

"Quite recently, yeah." John nodded trying to look fascinated.

"Aye. God bless Henry Knight and his monster from hell."

"Ever seen it – the hound?" John asked.

The manager shook his head, "Me? No." He points out the door past Sherlock, where Fletcher is just outside the pub and talking on his phone to someone.

"Fletcher has. He runs the walks – the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He's seen it."

John looked at Fletcher and nodded, "That's handy for trade."

"I'm just saying we've been rushed off our feet, Billy." Said the manager to the inn cook.

"Yeah. Lots of monster-hunters. Doesn't take much these days. One mention on Twitter and oomph." Billy started cleaning the counter.

Billy looks at Gary, "We're out of WKD."

"All right." He walks behind the bar again. Billy turns to John.

"What with the monster and that ruddy prison, I don't know how we sleep nights. Do you, Gary?" Billy asked Gary.

Gary stops and puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him affectionately, "Like a baby".

Billy scoff, "That's not true. He's a snorer."

"Hey, wheesht!" Gary slapped Billy shoulder to shut him up.

"Is yours a snorer?" Billy asked John.

John ignored Billy's question and asked, "Got any crisps?"

Gary looked at Scarlett with a secretive smile, "You're parents are a cute couple."

Scarlett looked puzzled and replied, "Thanks?" and climb out of the chair.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

Scarlett put on her black leather jacket, "Want to see what dad is up to." And she walks out of the Inn.

"Where did you adopt her? Because we're planning on adopting kids." Billy asked John.

"No, she's my friend's daughter." John replied with a smile.

"Well, she's a charmer." Gary added.

John shook his head and sigh heavily, "You have no idea."


	4. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 4

Scarlett walked out of the Inn and saw her father sitting in the table with the "monster walks" tour guide; she walked up to them and sat next to her father.

"Hello." said Fletcher as he gives her a quick smile.

Scarlett smiled, "Hello, So what were you two boys talking about?" She asked.

"Fletcher here said he has seen the hound." Sherlock chuckled.

"You think it's funny?" Fletcher asked looking offended.

"Got any proof?" Sherlock raised a brow

There was a small smirk on Fletcher's face, "Why would I tell you if I did? 'Scuse me." He stands up to leave just as John comes over with his own drink.

"I called Henry…" before John could finish his sentence Sherlock talked over him.

"Bet's off, John, sorry."

"What?" John asked as he sat down looking confused about Sherlock's statement.

"Bet?" Fletcher raised a brow at the two grown men.

Sherlock ignored the two and looks at his watch, "My plan needs darkness. Reckon we've got another half an hour of light ..."

Fletcher cut him off. "Wait, wait. What bet?" he raised his voice.

"Oh, I bet John here fifty quid that you couldn't prove you'd seen the hound." Sherlock replied.

John finally catch on about Sherlock's bet and looks at Fletcher, "Yeah, the guys in the pub said you could."

This time Fletcher look at Scarlett who shrugged her shoulder, "Sorry, it's kind of unbelievable."

Fletcher looks at Sherlock and points at him, "Well, you're gonna lose your money, mate."

"Yeah?" Sherlock asked smugly.

"Yeah. I've seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow. It was foggy, mind – couldn't make much out.

"I see. No witnesses, I suppose?" Sherlock pointed out.

"No, but-"

"Never are." Sherlock cut him off as he rolled his eyes.

"Wait ..." Fletcher held his smart phone up to Sherlock, and on it was a picture of an ark-furred four-legged something in the distance. "There."

Sherlock snort when he saw the picture, "Is that it? It's not exactly proof, is it?"

Sherlock looked at Scarlett who was studying the picture, "What do you think Scarlett?" he asked

"I don't know I know it's not Photoshop but its kind of hard to see the picture" said Scarlett not trying to sound rude.

"Sorry, John. I win." Said Sherlock as he drank his drink he had stolen from the other table.

"Wait, wait. That's not all. People don't like going up there, you know – to the Hollow. Gives them a ... bad sort of feeling."

"Ooh! Is it haunted? Is that supposed to convince me?" Sherlock said as he mock Fletcher.

"Nah, don't be stupid, nothing like that, but I reckon there is something out there – something from Baskerville, escaped."

"A clone, a super-dog?" Sherlock asked

"Maybe. God knows what they've been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn't trust 'em as far as I could spit."

"Is that the best you've got?" as he look at the photo from the phone.

Fletcher hesitates for a long moment, uncertain whether to continue, but eventually he speaks reluctantly, lowering his voice, "I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishin' but he never showed up – well, not 'til late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. "I've seen things today, Fletch," he said, "that I never wanna see again, terrible things." He'd been sent to some secret Army place – Porton Down, maybe, maybe Baskerville, or somewhere else"

Fletcher leans close to Sherlock, "In the labs there – the really secret labs, he said he'd seen ... terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said, and dogs ..."

He reaches into his bag and pulls something out, showing it to them.

"... dogs the size of horses." He is holding a concrete cast of a dog's paw print, but the print is at least eight inches long from the tip of the claws to the back of the pad. Sherlock and Scarlett stares at it in surprise while John immediately pounces.

"Er, we did say fifty?" John asked.

As Fletcher smiles proudly, Sherlock gets out his wallet and hands John a fifty pound note.

Sulkily, Sherlock gets up and walks away, and Scarlett and John got up to follow him "Scarlett, I need you to go to the tour with Fletcher and find out stuff about this 'hound'." said Sherlock as he reach the car.

"So you want me to stay here all alone, flirt with a boy I just met, and get attack by the hound during the tour." Scarlett raised a brow.

"Technically, yes." Sherlock gave her a fake smile.

"You know most dads point a gun at a boy who flirts with their daughter."

"Well, obviously I don't have a gun. And I am not 'most dads'." he reminded her.

Scarlett rolled her eyes, "Of course how could I forget?"

Sherlock look at his watch, "I think the tour starts right now don't you think?"

Scarlett glared at him and walked away from the two men, "Hope you have fun whatever you're going!" she yelled.

As he watch his daughter join the other group to the tour, Sherlock open the door, and started the engine.

"So where are we going?" John asked as he took his seat.

"I need to go to Baskerville." Sherlock replied.

Unfortunately, the tour didn't give Scarlett much information. It just turned out to be thirty minutes of walking, and climbing which was too simple for her.

Fletcher decided to give everyone a break so they could get the energy to travel back. Scarlett sat far from the group and drank some bottle of water.

"Having fun?" Fletcher came up to her.

"Oh yeah." She gave him a fake smile.

"You know you're not like other girls, most girls will complain and give up in five minutes." He sat next to her while getting out his water bottle from his bag.

"I like to go hiking."

"You know you're dads they're interesting."

"John is not my dad, he's a family friend." She corrected him.

"Sorry, what does your dad do anyway?" Fletcher asked as he moves himself closer to her.

"He's a detective." She replied as she tried to avoid being close to him.

"Why is he here anyway?" he raised a brow.

"Henry Knight asked for his help."

"Can't blame him, the hound is like a devil." His face shows fear as if he just met death.

Scarlett decided this was the right time to make a move so she put her small soft hands on his arm and whispered, "Would you mind telling me when you saw the hound."

When Fletcher looked at her pleading face he smiled, "Me and my friends decided to come here because we heard stories about the Hound and we wanted to see if the stories was true. It was late at night when we arrived at the hallow, all the sudden fog appeared out of nowhere and we started hearing noises around us and when we turned around there was the hound right in front of us. It was huge, staring at us with its bloody eyes. Luckily we escape just in time, but still whenever I imagine that hound it gives me chills." He shook his head to get rid of the image of the devil out of his head.

"I'm so sorry to bring it up. I was just curious." She apologized.

He shook his head, "No, it's fine. I wouldn't mind telling it to a beautiful girl like you." He smiled and touched her hand.

Wanting to end this acting Scarlett got up and started stretching her arms, "Don't you think it's time to head back down?" she asked.

All the sudden everything became dark and cold. Fog appeared from the cold floor and the wind making sounds like a whisper.

"The weather is a bit strange don't you think?" she asked.

But Fletcher stood up and was standing next to her, he was to close so close she could feel his warm breath from her lips.

"What's the rush?" he asked as he tried to have his lips touch hers.

"Fletcher, leave me alone." She yelled as she slowly backed away from him.

But Fletcher continue to follow her, "Don't you want to have guy like me?"

This time he grabbed her shoulder and looked at her in the eye, "Don't dare try to leave me Emily!" he yelled.

Scarlett was able to let go of his grip, she raised her hand, and slap his face.

"Fletcher, snap it out!"

Everything became quiet, the sun began to shine again and the fog disappeared slowly.

Fletcher started to blink and realized what just happen, "Oh my gosh Scarlett I'm so sorry."

"Are you alright?" she asked

He nodded, "Yeah, I think it's time to head back." He uttered and walked away from her.

After that weird moment, Scarlett got back to her room and turns on the hot water and hoped in the shower. After standing underneath the hot shower for the first time Scarlett felt relaxed. After she gets out of the shower she put on her union jack sweater, tight jeans, and let her wet hair loose. She walked out of the bathroom and decided she needed a short nap from the hike. She lies on the bed and let her wet head rest on the soft pillow. For the first time today she felt so relaxed, the warm sun ray touching her face, the sounds of crows from outside, and the cool wind tickling her ear. When it felt like hours she felt someone's hand on her shoulder, "Scarlett, get up."

She groaned, "Five more minutes."

She opened her eyes a little and saw her father standing next to her bed.

"We need to go to Henry's place." He reminded her as he look down at his hands.

"So how was Baskerville?" she asked as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Dull, but interesting." he replied.

"How was your hiking trip?" he asked

She shrugged, "Same"

"Got any information?" he asked as he sat on his bed.

"Same information we heard from Henry. The hound is big and has red eyes." She replied with boredom.

"That's it?" he asked looking disappointed.

"Pretty much." She nodded. "What about you?"

"Remember couples years ago I made you pickpocket Mycroft and you gave me one of his I.D.?" he asked.

Scarlett nodded, she remembered when she was young she was always a lab rat to her father. If Mycroft was pissing Sherlock off he will make her steal Mycroft's stuff and have her give it to him.

"Well, that I.D. let's me access to Baskerville." He grinned.

"Of course, he is the British government." She rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, John and I saw a lot of animals in Baskerville, nothing un-normal really. I met one interesting scientist, Dr. Jacqui Stapleton, the mother of the little girl who contacted me on my website."

Scarlett raised a brow, "The one about the glowing rabbit?"

"Yes, her mother specializes in genetic manipulation." He pointed.

"So it means she somehow put some genes in the rabbit that made it glow and her daughter accidently brought the wrong rabbit home." She pointed out.

Sherlock nodded, "Could be."

"So did you get caught?" Scarlett asked curiously.

"No, we didn't." he said proudly.

She scoffs, "Oh come on last time it took uncle 20 minutes when you broke into a top secret base."

Sherlock looked at his watch, "Actually, it took him 23 minutes. Mycroft is getting slower."

Scarlett looked at him with confusion, "Technically saying you guys actually got caught."

Sherlock shook his head, "Almost, but no."

Before Scarlett could asked more question Sherlock got up from the bed and threw her leather jacket at her.

"You might want to wear that it might get cold tonight." He warned her.

"I have a feeling you have a plan." said Scarlett as she put on her leather jacket.

He looked down at her and smiled, "You know I always do."


	5. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 5

Henry's home is enormous – a four-story stone building, a large old-fashioned glass conservatory is attached to the end of the building on the ground floor, and a modern two-story glass extension has been built onto the side of the house to join it to another two-story stone building nearby. Sherlock and John go into the greenhouse, which looks very run-down and clearly hasn't had a paint job in years, and walk across to the door on the opposite side. Sherlock rings the doorbell and Henry opens the door.

"Hi," he uttered.

"Hey" John replied.

"Hey Henry." Scarlett replied with a smile.

"Come in, come in." said Henry as he hold the door for them to come in.

Sherlock wipes his feet on the doormat, walks in and heads down the hallway. John follows more slowly, stopping to look into a large high-ceilinged sitting room before following Henry again.

"This is, uh ... are you, um ...? John trailed off as he searches for the right word before finding it.

"Rich?" Scarlett finished for him.

Henry nodded, "Yeah."

"Right," said John.

Henry leads off again. Sherlock throws a dark look at Scarlett before following Henry in to the kitchen. Couple minutes later in the kitchen, Sherlock puts two sugar lumps into his mug and stirs them in. Scarlett did the same but instead she put one sugar lump, and John's sits next to Sherlock drinking his coffee. Henry is standing on the other side of the island gazing down at the work surface.

"It's-it's a couple of words. It's what I keep seeing. 'Liberty' ..." said Henry as he tried to remember what he saw a couple hours ago.

"Liberty." John repeated as he reaches out for his pocket to get his notebook.

"'Liberty' and ... 'in'" It's just that."

Henry picks up the bottle of milk that's on the island, "Are you finished?"

John nodded and Henry turned around to put the milk back in the fridge.

"Mean anything to you?" John whispered to Sherlock.

""Liberty in death" – isn't that the expression? The only true freedom," Sherlock replied softly.

John and Scarlett nod in agreement as Henry turns back around, sighing. Sherlock takes a drink from his mug.

Henry look at the three, "What now, then?"

"Dad said he got a plan," said Scarlett as she looks at her dad who was drinking his coffee.

"Yes," Sherlock smiled at Henry.

"Right," said Henry

"We take you back out onto the moor ..."

"Okay." Henry replied nervously.

"... and see if anything attacks you." Sherlock looked at Henry with intense.

"What?" John and Scarlett both shouted.

"That should bring things to a head," Sherlock said calmly.

"At night? You want me to go out there at night?" Henry asked but this time with fear.

"Mmm."

"That's your plan?" Scarlett raised a brow.

"Got any better ideas?" Sherlock asked.

"That's not a plan." John shook his head with disbelief.

"Dad, we need a plan not have Henry be a meat to the Hound."

"Listen, if there is a monster out there, John and Scarlett, there's only one thing to do: find out where it lives."

Sherlock looks round to Henry and smiles widely at him before taking another drink from his mug. Henry does not look heartened by this.

As night begins to fall, Henry leads Sherlock, John, and Scarlett across the rocks towards Dewer's Hollow. All four of them have flashlights to light the uneven ground below their feet. By the time they reach the woods it is almost full dark and it becomes even darker as they head into the trees. John, bringing up the rear, hears rustling to his right and turns around to look. The other three don't notice and continue onwards as John walks cautiously towards the sound he heard. He shines his torch into the bushes as an owl shrieks overhead, but he can see nothing. Raising his head he sees a light repeatedly winking on and off at the top of a hillside a fair distance away. He looks around to alert his friend.

"Sher..." John stopped when he realized Sherlock and Henry were gone, except for Scarlett who was also looking at the light.

"What is that?" she asked as she walked pass John and try to observe the flashing light.

"Must be a Morse code," John took out his notebook and started writing down.

"U ... M ... Q ... R ... A." he whispered to himself.

"UMQRA?" Scarlett raised a brow.

"That can't be right." Shaking his head, he looks up to the hillside again but no more light comes from it.

"What do you think it means?" Scarlett asked

John shut his notebook, "I have no idea." And went to the direction where Sherlock and Henry disappear to.

"John! Wait up!" Scarlett yelled as she run towards him.

"Scarlett, sshh" John hushed her.

"Oh, sorry" she apologized.

"Call your dad to see where his at."

Scarlett took out her phone from her pocket; pressed the speed dial, and waited. After a couple seconds Scarlett shook her head and shoved her phone in her pocket, "There's no service."

John sigh, "That's just great, just great."

Scarlett grabbed his arm and started to walk on.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure they went this way," she said with confidence.

"You're pretty sure?" John asked and let go of her gasp.

"Of course, I'm Sherlock Holmes daughter," she smiled and continues to walk forward.

As they progresses onwards, they hears an eerie metallic thrumming sound. They stops and aim their flashlight in the direction of the sound, "Did you hear that?" Scarlett asked.

John nodded, the sound continues to repeat, now interspersed with a short metallic ping. Scarlett walks slowly towards the sound, then quietly chuckles as she sees a rusty metal container, possibly an oil drum, which is lying in the undergrowth. Water is dripping from the tree above it and causing the thrums and pings as it strikes the drum.

"Look John." She shook her hand in the air motioning him to come to her.

"What is it?" he asked as he points his flashlight on her.

"The sound is coming from here." She patted the tree.

As John looks at it and sighs with relief, something massive flashes past behind him. John and Scarlett spins and looks but it's already gone, but a couple of seconds later an anguished howl sounds in the distance.

"Please tell me that the tree made that sound," said John but inside he knew a tree couldn't make that sound.

Scarlett shook her head," I'm afraid not. Let's find Dad and Henry before the Hound gets us," she turned her back and started heading to the dark road.

"That's really comforting Scarlett," said John but this time with fear.

When they continue to walk, they were stopped by a howl. Scarlett looked around to see where she was. Small fog started to rise from the floor and her feet was now hidden from the fog. She then heard footsteps running from a distant but still close. She took a step forward and started to follow the sound. She stopped where she was and started to hear a low growl.

"John?" she whispered and realized she was all on her own.

"Shoot." She cursed herself for leaving him behind.

She then heard the bush shake; she spun around to see where the sound was coming from. When the bush stopped shaking she quietly pick up a rock from the ground and threw it at the bush. There was no sound or movement. Scarlett sigh with relieve and turned around to go find John. She was stopped when she heard a low growl again except it was now closer. She stood there not moving an inch. It was quiet but she could still hear the beast growling, she turned real slowly, and looked at the darkness between the trees. She raised her flashlight and pointed it towards the darkness. In front of here there were two red bloody eyes staring at her. She dropped her flashlight and gave out a loud scream as if she was ready to be murdered and started to run away from the beast. She could hear it running for her, she run as fast she could trying to avoid the trees and the bush. She tripped into a rock and landed face ward. She struggle to get up and tried to ignore the pain from her leg and started to run. While she was running she had realize the hound has stopped following her and she decided to stop and catch her breathe. She stood there panting and wiping her sweats, she felt a cold hand touching her shoulder, and she gave a loud scream and started punching the person that was behind her.

"Scarlett, calm down." Said John as he put his hands on her shoulder and tried to calm her down.

When Scarlett saw it was John she sigh with relief. "Oh, it was just you."

"What happened? I heard you screaming," John looked worried.

"I just saw… "Before she could finish she saw two figures running to them.

"Here comes Dad and Henry." She whispered.

When John saw Henry and Sherlock he ran up to them, "Did you hear that?"

Sherlock ignored him and walked passed him.

"We saw it. We saw it." Henry yelled hysterically.

"No. I didn't see anything." Sherlock raise his voice.

Henry looked at him with disbelief and started to chase after him. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I didn't. See. Anything" Sherlock hissed and started to walk faster.

Scarlett looked the dark figure walking away from her she knew something was wrong with him. "Something's wrong with him," she whispered and started to chase after her father.


	6. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 6

Sherlock is back at the inn. Sitting in an armchair by a roaring open fire, his face is still full of shock and disbelief. Unaware of his distress, other patrons sit at tables nearby having their evening meal. John comes in and sits next to Scarlett, who was her pouring some wine in a glass cup.

"How is he?" John asked

"What do you think?" Scarlett raised a brow as she set down the bottle of wine.

"I never seen him this scared before John," she whispered.

"Do you think…" but Scarlett cut him off.

"Maybe," she got up from her seat and set the glass of wine on the table that was near her father.

"Drink up," said Scarlett as she took the seat next to him, John comes in and sits down in the armchair on the other side of the fire.

"Well, he is in a pretty bad way. He's manic, totally convinced there's some mutant super-dog roaming the moors," said John.

With his hands in the prayer position in front of his lips, Sherlock glimpses nervously at John for a moment, than continues to observation in the direction of the fire, lost in thought.

"And there isn't, though, is there? 'Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog, we'd know," John suggested.

Sherlock clasps his fingers together, closing his eyes and breathing heavily as if trying to fend off a panic attack."

"They'd be for sale. I mean, that's how it works," John joked.

Scarlett shook her head, "I know how the government works John, and there are things they don't want the public to know."

Sherlock didn't say anything, John remembers something and took out his notebook, "Er, listen: er, on the moor I saw someone signaling. Er, Morse – I guess its Morse…Doesn't seem to make much sense."

Scarlett nodded, "I thought it didn't make sense either."

Sherlock pulls in a harsh breath through his nose and then blows the breath out again through his mouth.

"Er, U, M, Q, R, A."

"Does that mean ... anything to you dad?" Scarlett asked.

Both John and Scarlett finally realize how distressed Sherlock is looking and pauses for a moment, then decides that they can't be right. John puts his notebook away again and sits back in his chair.

"So, okay, what have we got? We know there are footprints, 'cause Henry found them; so did the tour guide bloke. We all heard something," John looked at Scarlett who was giving him a nervous look.

"I saw it," Scarlett whispered.

"Saw what?" John asked.

Scarlett's lip trembled, "The Hound."

"You're kidding," John looked at her with disbelief.

"Henry's right."

Scarlett and John looked at Sherlock, "What?" John asked.

"I saw it too," this time Sherlock's voice was unsteady.

"What?" John asked with shock.

"I saw it too, John."

"Me too," Scarlett added.

"Just ... just a minute," John sits forward, "You both saw what?"

"A hound, out there in the Hollow. A gigantic hound," Sherlock talk through his gritted teeth still sounding scared.

John almost laughs as Sherlock and Scarlett looks away, Sherlock tried unsuccessfully to blink back tears. John sits back in his chair again, not quite able to cope with this strange reaction from his colleague.

"Um, look, Sherlock and Scarlett, we have to be rational about this, okay? Now you, of all people, can't just ..."

"BUT I DEFINTALY SAW IT JOHN!" Scarlett yelled at him.

"Let's just stick to what we know, yes? Stick to the facts," John finished his sentence calmly.

"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains – however improbable – must be true," said Sherlock softly.

"What does that mean?" John asked still looking confused.

Looking away again, Sherlock reaches down and picks up a drink from a nearby table. Looking down at his quivering hand, he sniggers.

"Look at me. I'm afraid, John. Afraid," said Sherlock as he takes a drink and then holds the glass up again, his hand still shaking.

"Sherlock…"

"Dad…"

"Always been able to keep myself distant ... divorce myself from ... feelings ever since…. But look, you see... body's betraying me. Interesting, yes? Emotions. The grit on the lens, the fly in the ointment," Sherlock slams the glass down onto the table.

"Yeah, all right, Spock, just ..."

"Take it easy," said Scarlett softly still looking worried about her father.

"You've been pretty wired lately, you know you have. I think you and Scarlett just gone out there and got yourselves a bit worked up."

Scarlett glared at John, "Work up?"

"It was dark and scary," John protest.

Sherlock laugh sarcastically, "Me? There's nothing wrong with me."

Scarlett raised a brow, "You sure?"

Sherlock looks away, almost beginning to hyperventilate, then puts his fingertips to his temples, groaning in anguish. John and Scarlett look at him in concern.

"Sherlock ..."

"Da…"

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Sherlock yelled at them furiously as he glared at them.

He looks round at the other patrons, all of whom are now staring at him. He looks away again, and then looks at John and Scarlett.

"You want me to prove it, yes?" said Sherlock as he pulls in a deep breath, trying to get himself under control.

"We're looking for a dog, yes, and a great big dog, that's your brilliant theory. Cherchez le chien. Good, excellent, yes, where shall we start?" He looks over his shoulder and points at a man and woman sitting opposite each other at a table in the curve of the restaurant. His voice becomes ferocious and harsh as he goes into deduction mode, "How about them? The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman. The answer's yes."

"Yes?" John looked at him as if he was crazy.

"He's got a West Highland terrier called Whisky. Not exactly what we're looking for," said Sherlock sounding disappointed.

"Oh, dad, for goodness sake," Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"Look at the jumper he's wearing. Hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it. Maybe it's because of the material; more likely the hideous pattern, suggesting it's a present, probably Christmas. So he wants into his mother's good books. Why? Almost certainly money. He's treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he's trying to economies on his own food."

"Well, maybe he's just not hungry," John suggested looking annoyed about Sherlock's deduction mode.

Sherlock shook his head, "No, small plate. Starter. He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her Pavlov. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry all right, and not well off – you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes. "How d'you know she's his mother?""

John and Scarlett, until now they have been looking at him with concern as he has become increasingly intense, smiles briefly.

This time his started speaking fast and more intense, "Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive – fish hooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world, so he's turned to his widowed mother for help. "Widowed?" Yes, obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain round her neck – clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well-dressed but her jewelry's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it – it's sentimental. Now, the dog: tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly, but no hairs above the knees, suggesting it's a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it is – a West Highland terrier called Whisky. "How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?" 'Cause she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name and that's not cheating, that's listening, I use my senses, John, unlike some people, so you see, I am fine, in fact I've never been better, so just Leave. Me. Alone," he hissed at them.

"Okay," Scarlett whispered, she looked at her father with fear.

John cleared his throat, "Yeah."

John shrugged, "And why would you listen to me? I'm just your friend."

"I don't have friends," said Sherlock fiercely.

Scarlett covers her face with her hand. He'd gone too far now.

John looked at Sherlock looking hurt, "No. Wonder why." John got up from his seat and walked out from the pub.

"Now look what you done!" Scarlett raised her voice.

"Shut up," Sherlock uttered.

Scarlett narrows her eyes and gaze at the fire quietly.

"You hurt yourself," he pointed out.

"What?" Scarlett asked.

"Your knee."

She looked down and saw a purple mark on her jeans, "Oh, I fell while I was running from the Hound."

Sherlock got up from his seat, "Let's go deal with your wound."

Scarlett nodded and followed him to the room; she sat on the corner of the bed and rolled up her jeans. The wound was worst then she expected, her knee was covered with flesh blood and her cut was really deep. Sherlock came in the room with a cold wet cloth in his hand. He grabbed a chair nearby and put it close to her, he sat down and gently wiping the blood.

"Ow!" she hissed.

Sherlock ignored her pain and walked in the bathroom. He walked in with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide; he sat on the chair again and applies it on the cut.

"Oh my gosh!" she gasp with pain.

"Shut up," he uttered.

"Oh that's really comforting," she replied sarcastically.

"Put some bandages it should get better soon."

Scarlett nodded and roll down her jeans.

"There's something I don't understand," she raised her voice at him.

"What?"

"How could we see the Hound at the same time?"

"Where were you when you saw the Hound?" Sherlock asked.

"The other side of the hallow."

"Interesting… in two different places but we both saw the same thing," Sherlock whispered to himself with intense.

"What did the hound look like?" Sherlock asked still gazing at the fire.

"I only saw a glimpse of it, it was huge and it had red eyes."

"I saw the same thing," Sherlock uttered.

"So how could we've seen the Hound if we were two different places?" Scarlett raises her voice.

"There's one explanation…"

"What is it?" she asked as she lean closer to him.

Sherlock sigh, "Don't you think you should go to bed?" he asked as he looks at his watch.

"I'm 16 years old. I don't have a bedtime."

"You're going to need to gain your strength for tomorrow," he reminded her.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Sherlock farrow an eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to bed?"

"Later," he uttered.

Sherlock got up from his chair and quickly kissed her forehead, "Good night," she whispered.

"Goodnight," he whispered and walked out the room, leaving her all alone.


	7. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 7

Suddenly a loud piercing stream of light exploded in her face, blinded by its brightness. Feeling unhappy with her sleep Scarlett moaned for more sleep, but the devilish light of the sun begged for justice to win over her. She tried to open his eyes, adjusting to the dim bedroom light. She notices her father's bed was empty. She got up from her bed and notices a note and some bills on the table. She picks up the note and started reading it.

_Went to Henry's, _

_Go buy something to eat._

_And no you can't drink._

_SH_

Scarlett sighs and put down the note. She took a quick shower, put on some makeup, and wore her long black sleeve shirt, leather jacket, tight jeans, and blue converse. She grabbed the money from the table and left the room. She decided to go checkup John to see if he was alright, she knock on his door but there was no answer.

"John?" she yelled, but there was still no answer. She shrugged and went to the dining area. She took an empty table and was looking through the menu, "Morning Scarlett," said Gary as he set down a glass cup of water.

"Morning," she smiled up at him.

"What would you like to have?" he asked as he took out his notebook and pen.

"Umm… toast and sausage."

"Is that all you want?" Gary asked

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Okay, I'll bring it out in a couple minutes," he smiled at her and walked away.

"Have you seen my dad?" Scarlett yelled.

"Which one?" Gary asked.

Scarlett rolled her eyes, "The black hair one."

"He left early this morning he looked like he was in a hurry," said Gary as he went into the kitchen.

"What about John?"

"The blonde hair one? He went out 30 minutes ago."

"Have any idea where he went?" she asked as she drank her glass of water.

Gary shook his head, "No clue."

After waiting for her breakfast Scarlett started to get bored and started to observe the customers.

_Married, cheating on his wife, cheating on her husband, widow, have no life…. _

She spotted one man walking in the Inn; he was wearing a brown jacket, black sunglasses, and had gray hair. Right away she knew who the man was.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she yelled.

The man sighs and walk toward her, "Is that how your dad taught you to greet people?"

"Lestrade, what are you doing here?" she raised a brow.

Lestrade sighs, "Vacation."

Scarlett shook her head, "Don't lie, you just came from your vacation."

Lestrade took out his sunglasses, "How did you…. Never mind. Your uncle sent me here."

"Really? Why?"

Before Lestrade could answer her question Gary put her breakfast on the table, "Here you go Scarlett."

Scarlett smiled, "Thank you."

"I don't know he just wanted me to check on you three," said Lestrade as he took a seat.

"I bet it's about my dad and John breaking in Baskerville," said Scarlett as she ate her sausage.

"They did what?" Lestrade raised his voice.

"Oops, guess I wasn't supposed to tell you that," Scarlett shrugged as if it was no deal.

"How did he do that?" Lestrade asked.

"What do you think Lestrade? His Mr. Sherlock Holmes the man who can outsmart people like you."

"Thanks," Lestrade said sarcastically.

She smiled, "You're welcome."

"So where are Sherlock and John?" Lestrade raised a brow.

"Dad went to Henry Knight's place and I have no clue where John is," said Scarlett as she drank her water.

"I thought they always go together."

Scarlett shook her head, "They had a fight last night."

"Oh… Are they…"

Scarlett cut him off, "No."

"What the hell are you doing here?" yelled a voice.

Scarlett and Lestrade turned around and saw Sherlock and John walking in to the dining area.

"Well, nice to see you too! I'm on holiday, would you believe?" Lestrade replied with a smile.

"No, I wouldn't," Sherlock raised his voice.

"Hullo, John," Lestrade greeted him.

John nodded, "Greg"

"I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?" Lestrade joked.

Sherlock looked at him with annoyance, "I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?"

"I've told you: I'm on holiday."

"You're brown as a nut. You're clearly just back from your 'holidays'."

"Yeah, well I fancied another one," said Lestrade trying to look nonchalant.

"Oh, this is Mycroft, isn't it?"

Scarlett rolled her eyes, "Dad."

"Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to ... to spy on me incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?" Sherlock smirk.

John looked at him confused, "That's his name."

Sherlock frowned, "Really?"

Scarlett whispered, "I thought you knew."

"Yes – if you'd ever bothered to find out. Look, I'm not your handler ... and I don't just do what your brother tells me."

"Actually, you could be just the man we want."

Sherlock raised a brow, "Why?"

"Well, I've not been idle, Sherlock. I think I might have found something," said John as he shows Sherlock the sales invoice from Undershaw Meat Supplies.

"Here. Didn't know if it was relevant; starting to look like it might be. That is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant," John pointed out.

Scarlett gave him a wide smile, "Brilliant John!"

Sherlock nodded, "Excellent."

"Nice scary inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy," said John as he rang the bell in the front desk.

Lestrade stared at Scarlett, "Do you think I'm nice and scary?"

Scarlett laughed and walked away with her dad.

Later, in the small Snug next to the bar, Greg is sitting at a table looking through paperwork, while Gary the manager and Billy the chef sit at the other side of the table looking at him nervously. Sherlock has poured a cup of coffee from a filter machine and is stirring it. He showily taps the drips off the spoon into the cup and then picks it up and carries it over to John and Scarlett, offering it to them.

"What's this?" John raised a brow.

"Coffee. I made coffee."

"You never make coffee," Scarlett pointed out.

"I just did. Don't you guys want it?" Sherlock asked.

John shook his head, "You don't have to keep apologizing."

Sherlock looks away with a hurt expression on his face. Scarlett went up to her dad and accepts the cup and saucer, "Thanks dad," she whispered. Sherlock gave her a quick smile and was now staring at John.

"Just accept it John," Scarlett hissed.

John relents and takes the cup and saucer, "Thanks."

Sherlock smiles happily. John takes a mouthful and frowns, "Mm. I don't take sugar…"

Scarlett also frowns, "I only take one cube."

The hurt expression comes back onto Sherlock's face as he looks away again disappointed.

"John, just drink it," Scarlett hissed as she sip her coffee slowly.

John looks at his face and feels that he has no choice but to take another drink. John looks at his face and feels that he has no choice but to take another drink.

"These records go back nearly two months!" Lestrade hollowed.

Pouting at the taste, John and Scarlett puts the cup back into the saucer and looks at Sherlock.

"That's nice. That's good," John uttered.

Scarlett nodded, "It was good dad, thanks."

"Is that when you had the idea, after the TV show went out?" Lestrade asked.

"It's me. It was me. I'm sorry, Gary – I couldn't help it. I had a bacon sandwich at Carol's wedding and one thing just led to another..." said Billy sounding anxious.

Lestrade shook his head, "Nice try."

"Look, we were just trying to give things a bit of a boost, you know? A great big dog run wild up on the moor – it was heaven-sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster," said Gary.

"Where do you keep it?" Scarlett asked.

"There's an old mineshaft. It's not too far. It was all right there."

Sherlock raised a brow, "Was?"

Gary sigh heavily, "We couldn't control the bloody thing. It was vicious. And then, a month ago, Billy took him to the vet and, er ... you know."

"It's dead?" John blurted out.

Gary and Billy nodded, "Put down."

"Yeah. No choice. So it's over."

"It was just a joke, you know."

"Yeah, hilarious!" Lestrade rose his voice as he got up and stare at them angrily, "You've nearly driven a man out of his mind," He walks out of the room. John and Scarlett follow him. Sherlock watches him go, then peers into John's coffee cup before following. John and Scarlett follow Greg across the bar and out of the pub.

"You know he's actually pleased you're here?" said John

Greg throws him a disbelieving look.

"Secretly pleased," Scarlett corrected him.

"Is he? That's nice(!) I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his ... his ..." Lestrade scratch his head trying to find the right word to say.

"Asperger's?" John finished the sentence for him. This time Lestrade and John found themselves being glared by the two Holmes.

"So, you believe him about having the dog destroyed?" asked Lestrade trying to change the subject.

"No reason not to."

"Well, hopefully there's no harm done. Not quite sure what I'd charge him with anyway. I'll have a word with the local Force," Lestrade nods and smiles, "Right, that's that, then. Catch you later. I'm enjoying this! It's nice to get London out of your lungs!"

The three of them watch Lestrade walk away, and then John turns to Scarlett and Sherlock, "So that was their dog that people saw out on the moor?"

Scarlett nods, "Looks like it."

"But that wasn't what you two saw. That wasn't just an ordinary dog," John points out.

Sherlock gaze become distant, "No. It was immense, had burning red eyes and it was glowing, John. Its whole body was glowing," said Sherlock as he tremors, shaking off the memory, then turns and walks towards the car park.

"I've got a theory but I need to get back into Baskerville to test it."

"How? Can't pull off the ID trick again."

"Ya, how are we going to get in Baskerville?"

"Might not have to and Scarlett use your brain," He got his phone out and hit a speed dial and lifts the phone to his ear.

Sherlock smiled brightly, "Hello, brother dear. How are you?"


	8. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 8

At the entrance gates, the Land Rover approaches and stops. An armed security man goes over to Sherlock's side as the dog handler and sniffer dog also approach.

"Afternoon, sir. If you could turn the engine off," said the security guard. Sherlock hands over his ID pass and switches the car off, "Thank you," said the guard as he goes over the gate room to swipe the card and other soldiers check the vehicle over from the outside, Sherlock speaks quietly to John and Scarlett.

"I need to see Major Barrymore as soon as we get inside."

Scarlett nodded, "okay."

"Right," said John.

"Which means both of you have to start the search for the hound," Sherlock reminded them.

John nodded, "Okay."

"And what if the Hound attacks us?" Scarlett raised a brow.

"Run," Sherlock suggested.

"Dad, I'm being serious," she narrows her eyes at him.

"In the labs; Stapleton's first," Sherlock ignored her statement.

The guard brings the ID card back and hands it over.

"Could be dangerous," Sherlock whispered to them. John and Scarlett smile momentarily. The gate slides open and Sherlock starts the car and drives onto the base.

Later in Major Barrymore's office, the major is talking shakily to Sherlock, "Oh, you know I'd love to. I'd love to give you unlimited access to this place. Why not?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "It's a simple enough request, Major."

The major shook his head with disbelief, "I've never heard of anything so bizarre."

"You're to give me twenty-four hours. It's what I've ..." Sherlock pause for a moment, "negotiated."

The major gave him a stern look, "Not a second more. I may have to comply with this order but I don't have to like it."

He swings around to his computer on the desk behind him as Sherlock starts to leave the office.

"I don't know what you expect to find here anyway," yelled at him.

Sherlock turned around, "Perhaps the truth."

"About what? Oh, I see. The big coat should have told me."

Sherlock was now frowning at the major. The major started to grin, "You're one of the conspiracy lot, aren't you?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Well, then, go ahead, seek them out: the monsters, the death rays, the aliens."

"Have you got any of those?" Sherlock asked with excitement.

Major Barrymore rolled his eyes, "Oh, just wondering," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

The Major lean close to Sherlock, "A couple. Crash landed here in the sixties. We call them Abbott and Costello." The Major straightens up and went back to his computer, "Good Luck Mr. Holmes."

The lift doors open into the first lab that the boys visited but this time only John and Scarlett come out of the elevator. As they walk forward they see that there are only two scientists in the room and even they are leaving through a side door. The second one turns off the main overhead lights as he goes, which leaves the room lit far more dimly by a few arc lights on stands which are dotted around and the screens of some computers. "Why are they leaving?" Scarlett asked sounding a little bit nervous. John looks around a little nervously as he realizes how spooky and quiet it is, then walks towards doors at the far end of the lab, the doors which Doctor Frankland came out of on the first occasion that they met him. He has a security pass in his pocket and he takes it out and swipes it through the reader. John pulls the door open and goes inside, having apparently ignored – or been too BAMF to care about – the handwritten notice on the outside which reads:

KEEP OUT

UNLESS YOU WANT

A COLD!

They walk through the decontamination zone to the door at the far end and tap a finger on the glass window in the door. When nobody replies he pushes the door open and goes into a room which has a glass-walled section on the left hand side. There's a glass cage inside the sealed section but there doesn't appear to be anything inside. In front of them is a desk with equipment, folders, a phone and various other things on it, and above the desk are small plastic tubes coming out of the wall and dials that indicate that these tubes dispense various gases. John opens the door of a small cupboard set into the desk but finds nothing of interest and so continues looking around. On the right hand side of the room are large metal pipes which presumably also carry gases. One of them is leaking slightly.

John and Scarlett peer around a little longer, "Its cold," Scarlett complained.

"Let's go there's nothing to look at," John suggested.

They come out of the room and goes back through the decontamination zone and into the lab. Just to their right is a large arc light on a stand. As John and Scarlett turn to their right to close the door behind them, the thing lights up and nine bright bulbs shine straight into their eyes. They squints their eyes shut and turns their head away, grimacing at the pain.

"My eyes hurt!" Scarlett screamed with pain.

"Oh, no! Jesus! Ow!" John yelled with pain also.

Opening their eyes a little, they squint and tried to see the room. All the other lights in the room appear to have come on as well and there's a wall of whiteness all around them. Just then a loud insistent alarm begins to blare into the room. John and Scarlett groan and cover their ears, completely overwhelmed by the bright light, lack of vision and the noise.

"What's going on!" Scarlett yelled as she placed her hands on her ears and her eyes closed.

Grimacing, John tries to make his way across the lab to the lift, holding his hand up in front of his eyes as the after-image of the arc lights keeps blanking out his vision. Finally reaching the other end of the lab, he pulls out the ID card and swipes it through the reader. It whines and tells him "ACCESS DENIED". He stares in disbelief and swipes the card again but it whines and gives him the same message. Holding one hand to an ear as the alarm continues to blare, he tries once more.

"What's wrong?" Scarlett yelled as she notice John still standing in front of the door.

"It won't open!" He yelled as the alarm became louder.

"Do it again!" She yelled.

John swiped his card one more time and again it said "ACCESS DENIED."

"Give me your card!" John yelled at her.

"What?" Scarlett yelled back.

"Give me your card!"

Scarlett slowly walk towards as she watch her step to make sure she didn't hit something, when she finally reach him she took out her card from her pocket and handed it to him. John swipe the card hoping that it work, but the reader told him, "ACCESS DENIED."

"We're stuck in here!" Scarlett yelled.

At the moment all the lights go out and the alarm drones into silence. The room is now under emergency lighting only, which is dark red and barely illuminates the area.

"What the hell?" Scarlett whispered.

"Anyone here?" John yelled at the empty lab, there was dead silent. They walk forward cautiously, looking a little anxiously at the row of large cages which they now realize are all covered with sheeting that obscures their contents. The rattle sounds again. John walks slowly to the first of the cages, turning once to check behind him, then grabs hold of the sheeting and pulls it back to show that the first cage is empty. He walks to the next cage as something clinks near the lift doors. He swings around to look and shines his torch in that direction but can see nothing. He turns again and grabs the sheet over the second cage, tossing that back. Again the cage is empty, and the door is open. He moves on to the third cage and throws back the sheet. The monkey inside hurls itself at him, screaming as it grabs at the bars. John drops the sheet and stumbles back several paces, breathing heavily.

"Holy Crap!" Scarlett screamed.

"It's alright it's just a monkey," John tried to calm her down. He walks to the sheeting has been pushed back a little. The door of the cage is slightly ajar and the bottom of it has been bent back by something that must be incredibly strong.

"Do you think this is where the Hound was?" Scarlett asked as she looked at the broken cage with fear.

"Maybe," said John as he stares at the bent bars in disbelief, a low savage growl sounds behind him. John and Scarlett spin around, their eyes going wide as they shine their flashlight around but see nothing, "What was that?" Scarlett asked her voice was now shaky.

"I don't know but I'm pretty sure the monkey didn't make that sound," said John as Scarlett spun around the room. Scarlett spotted a nearby door to the Cold Lab and walks briskly over to it, "John, come here," she hissed at him.

John walked up to her and saw the reader he took his ID card and swipe it. The reader whines its ACCESS DENIED alert.

"Oh my gosh you got to be kidding me!" Scarlett yelled.

"No, come on, come on," John hissed as he swipes the card again. Again it refuses to open the door. He stares in anguish, and then pulls his mobile out of his pocket while shining his light around the room. He hits the speed dial and holds the phone to his ear as it begins to ring out and continues to ring, "No, you ... Don't be ridiculous, pick up."

Scarlett took out her phone and started texting her dad.

**John and I are trapped in the lab.**

**Please come unlock the door.**

**Come at once if convenient — if inconvenient come all the same.**

**SEH**

She pressed the sent button while John turns off his phone.

"He's not answering," said John looking like as if he was ready to punch the wall.

"I just text him so he should see it by now," said Scarlett as she look at her phone to wait for him to answer.

"Let's try the doors the scientist went out," John suggest as he walks toward it, all the sudden they heard a distinctive sound of claws on floor tiles skitters across the room.

"What the heck is…." John cut her off.

"Sshh," he hissed at her.

Ducking low, he hurries to the door and takes out his card again. As he reaches towards the card reader, the claws trot across the floor to his right, and then something snarls. John and Scarlett turn and stare, breathing heavily, as there are more sounds nearby – claws on the floor tiles, equipment being pushed aside, and then a low ominous growl.

"John…" Scarlett called for him.

John shoves the card back into his pocket and then claps his hand over his mouth to dampen his own panicked breathing as the growl rumbles on. As the growl finally falls silent, John makes a break for it, he grabbed her hand, and races across the room, running towards the cages and pulling open the door of one of the empty ones before scrambling inside, slamming the door shut and locking it "Pull the sheets down," he whispered to her. Scarlett nodded and reached through the bars and pulled the sheet down over the cage. Elsewhere in the lab, the whatever-it-is snarls as John and Scarlett retreat from the door and crouches down against the side bars, wrapping their hand around their mouth again and trying not to scream as the creature growls again. Suddenly John's phone starts to ring. Gasping, he scrambles in his pocket to retrieve it. He answers it on the second ring and holds it up towards his mouth. He keeps his voice as soft as he possibly can but even at such a low volume his terror is evident.

"It's here. It's in here with us," John said softly.

"Where are you guys?" Sherlock asked.

"Tell him to come now," Scarlett begged trying to lower her voice.

"Get us out, Sherlock. You have got to get uso ut. The big lab: the first lab that we saw," said John with anxiety. Outside the creature growls. John whines loudly in terror and claps his hand over his mouth again while Scarlett screamed and buried her face on her hands.

"John? Scarlett?" said Sherlock sounding concern.

Scarlett pulled the phone close to her, "Now, dad please!" Scarlett begs ready to cry.

"All right, I'll find you. Keep talking."

John shook his head, "We can't. It'll hear us."

"Keep talking. What are you seeing?"

Scarlett shook her head, "You go look at it."

John peers through the small gap in the sheeting but the room is so dimly lit that he couldn't see anything.

"John? Scarlett?  
"Yes, we're here," said John.

"What can you see?" Sherlock asked intensely.

Getting onto his knees, John crawls closer to the gap in the sheeting, trying to keep his terrified breathing under control.

"I don't know. I don't know, but I can hear it," said John. All the sudden there was a loud grow.

"Tell him to come right now!" Scarlett raised her voice still looking scared.

"Stay calm, stay calm. Can you see it?" Sherlock asked.

"No. I can ..." he trails off, then slowly straightens up, retreats backwards and sits back against the side bars as his face fills with absolute horror.

"Oh my gosh!" Scarlett screamed

"We can see it, it's here" John whispered.

The shadow moves closer ... and then the sheeting is tugged upwards as the lights come on in the lab and Sherlock's face appears on the other side of the cage, looking anxiously down at him as he pulls the door open and goes inside.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked sounding worried.

John's eyes widen in utter bewilderment as Sherlock bends down to him and puts a hand onto his shoulder. While Scarlett got up her eyes were also wide her entire body was shaking.

"John ..."

"Jesus Christ ..." said John as he grabs the bars and pulls himself to his feet, hurrying out of the cage and stuffing his phone away as he turns back to his friend.

"It was the hound, Sherlock. It was here. I swear it, Sherlock. It must…" John trailed off trying to catch his breath.

"Did ... did ... did you see it? You must have!" John yelled as his point around the lab.

"You must have dad!" Scarlett yelled as she finally got her strength back.

Sherlock holds out a placatory hand towards them, "It's all right. It's okay now."

"NO IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT OKAY! I saw it. I was wrong!"

"OKAY? OKAY? YOU THINK THIS IS OKAY?" Scarlett yelled the same time.

Sherlock shrugs as John and Scarlett breathe heavily.

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions," Sherlock suggest.

"What?" said John and Scarlett at the same time.

"What did you see?"

"We told you, the hound," John reminded him.

"Huge, red eyes?" Sherlock asked.

Scarlett nodded, "Yes,"

"Glowing?" Sherlock added.

"Yes," said John.

Sherlock smiled, "No."

John and Scarlett looked at him with confusion, "What?"

"I made up the bit about glowing. You two saw what you expected to see because I told you. You two have been drugged. We have all been drugged."

"Drugged?" John asked still looking confused.

"Of course, why didn't I think of that?" Scarlett cursed herself.

"I seriously thought you'll figure that out," said Sherlock as he smirks at her.

"Shut up," she muttered.

Sherlock looked at John with concern, "Can you walk?"

John nodded, "Course I can walk."

"Come on, then. It's time to lay this ghost," Sherlock turns and heads for the door. Still trying to catch their breath, John and Scarlett look around the lab again, and then stumble after Sherlock.


	9. The Hounds of the Baskervilles part 9

In a small room full of cages, Doctor Stapleton is examining a white rabbit. She looks up as Sherlock comes through the door, followed by John and Scarlett.

"Oh. Back again? What's on your mind this time?" Dr. Stapleton asked.

"Murder, Doctor Stapleton. Refined, cold-blooded murder," said Sherlock as he reaches back and turns off the light switch. The rabbit is brightly glowing green.

"Now that's wicked," Scarlett whispered to John.

Sherlock turns the lights back on, "Will you tell little Kirsty what happened to Bluebell or shall I?"

Sherlock smiles unpleasantly at her. She sighs, "Okay. What do you want?"

"Can I borrow your microscope?"

Scarlett raised a brow, "That's it? You just want to borrow a microscope?"

"Scarlett, I would recommend you be quiet for a little bit," said Sherlock as he went out to look for a microscope.

"But… oh never mind!" she said with disgust.

In a larger lab, Sherlock is gazing into a microscope. Unhappy with what he's seeing, he turns away from the 'scope and crushes something which looks crystalline into smaller pieces with a little hammer. Time passes and he varies between sitting with his back to the microscope, his hands folded in the prayer position in front of him as he thinks, or gazing into the 'scope, or scribbling chemical formulae onto the desk with different colored marker pens. Nearby, John sits on a stool with his head propped on his hand, gazing blankly into space, while Scarlett looks at Sherlock with boredom. Doctor Stapleton is standing next to John him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

John looks up at her with confusion.

"You look very peaky," she pointed out.

John nods his head, "No, I'm all right."

Doctor Stapleton was now staring at Scarlett, "So you're his daughter?"

Scarlett nodded, "Scarlett," she greeted.

"He doesn't look like the person to be a father," said Doctor Stapleton with a smile.

Scarlett chuckled, "I get that a lot. He's alright."

"It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you're interested," said Doctor Stapleton.

"What?" John asked.

"In the rabbit John," said Scarlett as if she thought it was the obvious.

"Mmm, right, yes."

"Aequoria Victoria, if you really want to know," said Doctor Stapleton proudly.

"Why?" Scarlett asked.

"Why not? We don't ask questions like that here. It isn't done."

Scarlett nods her head with agreement, "You got a point."

"There was a mix-up, anyway. My daughter ended up with one of the lab specimens, so poor Bluebell had to go," Doctor Stapleton explained.

"Your compassion's overwhelming," said John cynically.

Doctor Stapleton chuckled, "I know. I hate myself sometimes."

"So, come on then. You can trust me – I'm a doctor. What else have you got hidden away up here?" John asked with curiosity.

"Listen: if you can imagine it, someone is probably doing it somewhere. Of course they are."

"And cloning?"

Doctor Stapleton nods, "Yes, of course. Dolly the Sheep, remember?"

"Human cloning?" Scarlett asked.

Doctor Stapleton shrugs her shoulder, "Why not?"

"What about animals? Not sheep ... big animals," Scarlett asked with intense.

"Size isn't a problem, not at all. The only limits are ethics and the law, and both those things can be ... very flexible. But not here – not at Baskerville."

Furious, Sherlock snatches the latest slide out from under the 'scope and hurls it against the nearest wall which made the three jump.

"It's not there!" Sherlock yelled furiously.

"Umm… I'll make sure he'll pay for that," Scarlett whispered to Dr. Stapleton. But Dr. Stapleton shook her head, "It's alright we have enough."

"Nothing there! Doesn't make any sense," said Sherlock as he mess with his hair.

"What were you expecting to find?" Dr. Stapleton asked.

"A drug, of course. There has to be a drug – a hallucinogenic or a deficient of some kind. There's no trace of anything in the sugar," said Sherlock as he pace around the room.

"Sugar?" John raised a brow.

"The sugar, yes. It's a simple process of elimination. I saw the hound – saw it as my imagination expected me to see it: a genetically engineered monster. But I knew I couldn't believe the evidence of my own eyes, so there were seven possible reasons for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight and Scarlett saw it too but you didn't, John. You didn't see it. Now, we have eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpen apart from one thing: you don't take sugar in your coffee," Sherlock pointed out still pacing around the room.

"I see. So ..." said John as he narrow his eyes at him.

"I took it from Henry's kitchen – his sugar. It's perfectly all right," said Sherlock as he glares down at the microscope, "

"But maybe it's not a drug," Scarlett suggested.

"No, it has to be a drug," Sherlock protests.

He has sat on the stool with his head buried in his hands. Now he lowers his hands a little but keeps his head bowed and his eyes closed, "But how did it get into our systems. How?"

Slowly he begins to raise his head, still keeping his eyes closed, "There has to be something ..."

He open his eyes slowly, "... something buried deep."

Taking a sharp breath through his nose, he turns and points imperiously at John, Scarlett, and Stapleton.

"Get out," he demanded.

"What?" said Dr. Stapleton.

"Get out. I need to go to my mind palace."

Scarlett rolled her eyes while John falls on his seat with an "Oh, not again" look.

"You're what?" Dr. Stapleton asked still looking confused.

Sherlock has already turned his head away again and is staring ahead of himself. John gets off his stool while Scarlett started to walk away.

"He's not gonna be doing much talking for a while. We may as well go," said John as he heads for the door.

"His what?" Doctor Stapleton continues to ask as she follows the two to the door.

"Oh, his mind It's a memory technique – a sort of mental map. You plot a map with a location – it doesn't have to be a real place – and then you deposit memories there that ... Theoretically, you can never forget anything; all you have to do is find your way back to it," John explained to her.

"So this imaginary location can be anything, a house or a street."

Scarlett nodded, "Yeah."

"But he said "Place". He said it was a palace," Dr. Stapleton pointed out.

John looks at Sherlock, "Yeah, well, he would, wouldn't he?"

"You have no idea!" Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"Do you also have a mind place?" Dr. Stapleton asked Scarlett.

"Yeah, not big as dads though, "said Scarlett with a weak smile.

"What's your mind place then?" John asked.

Scarlett smiled at them, "Uncle Mycroft's home."

Stapleton leads Sherlock and John along a corridor and uses her card to swipe them into the area leading to Major Barrymore's office. As they go into the room, Sherlock points back to the door they just came through.

"John," said Sherlock.

John nod his head, "Yeah, I'm on it," as if he knew what Sherlock meant. He turns back to keep an eye on the door as Stapleton goes over to sit down at a computer.

"Project HOUND. Must have read about it and stored it away. An experiment in a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana," said Sherlock as he stands behind Stapleton as she types her User ID onto the computer then adds her password. A request to "Enter Search String" comes up and she looks up at Sherlock who dictates the letters.

"H, O, U, N, D," Sherlock spelled it out for her.

She types in the letters and hits Enter. A message comes up saying, "NO ACCESS. CIA Classified" and requesting an authorization code.

"That's as far as my access goes, I'm afraid," Dr. Stapleton gave him an apology look.

"Well, there must be an override and password," Scarlett suggested.

"I imagine so, but that'd be Major Barrymore's."

Sherlock spins around and walks into Barrymore's office, "Password, password, password," Sherlock uttered to himself.

Switching on the lights in the room he sits down at the desk, "He sat here when he thought it up."

Folding his hands in front of his mouth, he slowly spins a full circle on the chair, looking around the office as he goes. Stapleton comes to the doorway.

"Describe him to me," Sherlock demanded.

"You've seen him," Stapleton reminded him.

"But describe him."

"Er. He's a bloody martinet, a throw-back, the sort of man they'd have sent into Suez."

"Good, excellent. Old-fashioned, traditionalist; not the sort that would use his children's names as a password," said Sherlock as he points at a drawing, "He loves his job; proud of it and this is work-related, so what's at eye level?"

Scarlett walks up to the bookcase , "Jane's Defence Weekly – bound copies. Hannibal; Wellington; Rommel; Churchill's "History of the English-Speaking Peoples" – all four volumes," Scarlett points out for him.

Sherlock got up from the chair and looks at the bookcase with her, "Churchill – well, he's fond of Churchill. Copy of "The Downing Street Years"; one, two, three, four, five separate biographies of Thatcher."

"Mid nineteen eighties at a guess. Father and son: Barrymore senior Medals: Distinguished Service Order," said Sherlock as he look at John.

"That date? I'd say Falklands veteran," said John.

"Right. So Thatcher's looking a more likely bet than Churchill," said Sherlock as he walks out of the office and heads back towards the computer.

Stapleton follows him, "So that's the password?"

Sherlock shook his head, "No. With a man like Major Barrymore, only first name terms would do."

"Maggie," Scarlett whispered to herself.

"What?" John asked as he looks at her suspiciously.

Scarlett shook her head, "Nothing."

John comes over from the door to look at the screen. After a slight pause information begins to stream across the screen as everything related to Project H.O.U.N.D. becomes available. Sherlock's concentration becomes intense as he takes it all in and focuses on certain phrases like "extreme suggestibility", "fear and stimulus", "conditioned terror", "aerosol dispersal". A photograph comes up of the project team posing happily together and he identifies the five project leaders amongst the larger group: Elaine Dyson, Mary Uslowski, Rick Nader, Jack O'Mara and Leonard Hansen. Clearing the photo from the screen he rearranges the names into another order:

Leonard **H**ansen

Jack **O**'Mara

Mary **U**slowski

Rick **N**ader

Elaine **D**yson

Standing beside him, Doctor Stapleton finally begins to understand.)

"HOUND," Stapleton whispered but with shock. She stares in growing horror at the screen as more information from the project appears and words and phrases are highlighted such as "Paranoia", "Severe frontal lobe damage", "Blood-brain" "Gross cranial trauma", "Dangerous acceleration", "Multiple homicide", accompanied by photographs of some of the subjects of the project screaming insanely.

"Oh my gosh," Scarlett whispered.

"Jesus..." John said softly still looking shocked.

"Project HOUND: a new deleriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus; but they shut it down and hid it away in nineteen eighty-six," said Sherlock as he scans the information while it flows across the screen.

"Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on," said Stapleton still looking horror about the information.

"And what they did to others. Prolonged exposure drove them insane – made them almost uncontrollably aggressive," Scarlett added.

"So someone's been doing it again. Carrying on the experiments?" John asked.

Sherlock nods his head, "Attempting to refine it, perhaps, for the last twenty years."

"Who?" Stapleton asked.

"Those names mean anything to you?" John asked as he nods at the screen, indicating the names of the project leaders.

Stapleton shook her head, "No, not a thing."

Sherlock sigh with disappointment, "Five principal scientists, and twenty years ago."

He pulls up the photograph of the team and begins zooming. Sherlock continues to zoom in and out of the photo to look more closely at the faces, "Maybe our friend's somewhere in the back of the picture – someone who was old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986 ..." He stops as he sees a face he recognizes, and rolls his eyes a little as he realizes the truth.

"Maybe somebody who says "cell phone" because of time spent in America. You remember, John?" Sherlock looks at John who was giving him a nod.

"He gave us his number in case we needed him," Sherlock reminded him.

Stapleton still looked at the screen with shock, "Oh my God. Bob Frankland. But Bob doesn't even work on ... I mean, he's a virologist. This was chemical warfare."

"It's where he started, though ... and he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that that drug really could work. Nice of him to give us his number. Let's arrange a little meeting," said Sherlock as he reaches into his pocket and takes out Bob's card.

Then John's phone went off, he digs it out of his pocket, and frowns at the number on the screen, apparently not recognizing it. He answers, "Hello?"

"Who is it?" Scarlett asked looking curious.

John shook his head, "I don't know," he mouthed.

"Who's this?" John continues to ask.

Then John looked at Sherlock, "It's Louise Mortimer, Louise, what's wrong?" John went back to his phone.

"What? Where-where are you? " John yelled with fear.

"Right! Stay there. We'll get someone to you, okay?" lowering his phone, he begins to text.

"Henry?" Scarlett asked.

John nods his head, "He's attacked her."

"Gone?" this time Sherlock asked.

"Mmm,"

"What are we going to do?" Scarlett asked her father looking at him nervously.

"There's only one place he'll go to: back to where it all started."

Sherlock was now on the phone, "Lestrade. Get to the Hollow. ... Dewer's Hollow, now. And bring a gun."


	10. The Hounds of the Baskerviles part 10

**Post three chapters :)**

Sherlock pulls up presumably where the woods begin and he, John, and Scarlett get out and continue on foot.

"You think it's alright for her to come along?" John asked as he points his flashlight at Scarlett.

"John, we don't have time to discuss about this. And I've seen a lot of worst things," she raised her voice at him.

"But you're a kid!"

"I'm 16 John, I'm not a child. If you're going to keep yelling at me we might not be able to stop Henry," she reminded him.

"But…"

"Shut up John!" Sherlock yelled at him.

When they finally reach the hollow they saw Henry crying and pointing the gun in his mouth.

"Oh my gosh he's really going to kill himself!" Scarlett yelled with anxiety.

Sherlock ignored her remark and ran over to Henry, "No, Henry, no! No!" Sherlock yelled trying to stop him.

He, John, and Scarlett scramble down the slope, shining their torches at him. Henry stands up and stumbles backwards, waving the pistol vaguely in their direction. His voice is high-pitched and hysterical, "Get back. Get – get away from me!"

"Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax," said John trying to calm Henry down.

"I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!" Henry yelled at him.

"Just put the gun down Henry. It's okay," Scarlett pleads at him.

"No, no, I know what I am!"

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry. It's all been explained to you, hasn't it – explained very carefully," said Sherlock trying to reassure as he'll ever sound.

"What?" Henry asked.

"Someone needed to keep you quiet; needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you'd both clung on to, because you had started to remember," said Sherlock as he took a step closer to Henry.

"Remember now, Henry. You've got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy."

Henry's gun hand begins to droop momentarily but then he raises it again, his face full of his struggle to understand, "I thought it had got my dad – the hound. I thought ..." Henry stops and started to scream, "Oh Je... oh Jesus, I don't – I don't know any more!" Henry bends forward and aims the muzzle into his mouth again.

John lurch toward him, "No, Henry! Henry, for God's sake!"

"Dad, stop him!" she screamed.

"Henry, remember. "Liberty In." Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago," Sherlock said urgently.

Henry begins to calm a little but still remains hunched over with the gun's muzzle against his mouth.

"You'd started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn't an animal, was it, Henry?" Sherlock asked.

Henry starts to straighten up, blinking.

"Not a monster."

Henry was now staring at him with confusion.

"A man," Sherlock whispered.

Henry continues to stand still for a couple minutes and later he gapes at Sherlock as the truth reasserts itself in his mind.

"You couldn't cope. You were just a child, so you rationalized it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no-one would believe a word that you said."

Quietly John steps forward, holding out his hand encouragingly towards Henry, Scarlett walk slowly to her father and stood next to him as Greg Lestrade arrives and calls out as he trots down the slope towards them, "Sherlock!"

"Okay, it's okay, mate," said John softly as he carefully takes the pistol from Henry's fingers.

"But we saw it: the hound, last night. We s... we, we, we did, we saw ..." Henry spoke tearfully.

Scarlett gave him a weak smile, "Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was nothing more than an ordinary dog."

Sherlock nod his head, "Scarlett is right, we both saw it – saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus; that's how it works."

Scarlett was shock about her father's remark; Henry stares at him in confusion. Sherlock returns his look sympathetically, "But there never was any monster."

However, an anguished howl rings out in the woods above them. Everyone's head snaps up and John, Scarlett, and Greg aim their flashlights upwards to the top of the Hollow where a low shape can be seen slowly stalking along the rim and snarling.

"Dad!" Scarlett yelled.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock stares up in disbelief as Henry turns to him, horrified, "No, no, no, no!" Henry wailed.

He backs away as Sherlock tries simultaneously to hold out a calming hand towards him while keeping his own torch shining up towards the creature above them, "Henry, Henry…"

The hound turns towards the Hollow and looks down at everyone, snarling viciously. Its eyes glow in the torchlight as Henry continues to wail.

John turns and shines his flashlight into Lestrade's face, "Greg, are you seeing this?"

Lestrade glances at him momentarily and his expression answers the question. Sherlock takes a quick look around to the inspector to see his face before turning back to stare up at the hound.

"He is not drugged, dad, so what's that? What is it?" Scarlett yelled at him while staring at the hound with fear.

As Henry continues to wail behind them, Sherlock screws his eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to handle the overload in his mind. He stares upwards again, "All right! It's still here ... but it's just a dog. Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog!"

Scarlett turns her head to his, "An ordinary dog? You call this an ordinary dog?" she yelled at him.

"Scarlett, calm down," John tried to calm her.

"Calm down? Calm down? John there's a freaken demon dog in front of us and you want me to calm down?" she barked at him.

"Scarlett shut up!" Sherlock snaps at her.

"Oh my God," whispered Lestrade as he stumbles backward.

John stares at it as it stops again, its red glowing eyes now clearly visible as it opens its mouth and reveals a mouthful of long pointed teeth that you would never see on any dog. Its snarl is completely terrifying. Sherlock is still trying to believe what his own eyes are telling him ... and now there's movement behind them. Sherlock looks over his shoulder and sees a tall human figure through the mist. The new arrival is wearing a breathing mask with a clear visor over his face. Sherlock turns and rushes towards him, grabbing at the mask and ripping it upwards to fully reveal the man's face ... and Jim Moriarty grins manically back at him, "No!"

Behind him the hound growls ominously again. Jim's expression becomes intense and murderous but then his head begins to distort and flail about. Sherlock grimaces, groaning at the insanity going on in front of him as Jim's face keeps reasserting itself, "It's not you! You're not here!" Sherlock yelled frantically.

Grabbing at the figure, he spins him around and then head-butts him in the face. The figure crumples slightly and raises his hand to his face as he straightens up and now the man in front of Sherlock is Bob Frankland. Sherlock clings onto his jacket, his breathing panicked and frantic ... but then he turns his head to one side and looks at the mist surrounding them as suddenly it all begins to make sense to him.

"The fog!" Sherlock yelled at the group.

"What?" they all yelled.

"It's the fog! The drug: it's in the fog! Aerosol dispersal – that's what it said in those records. Project HOUND – it's the fog! A chemical minefield!"

"For God's sake, kill it! Kill it!" Franklin yelled as the HOUND was now getting closer.

The hound's movements become jumpy as if it's jumps itself up to attack. Lestrade aims his pistol and fires three times at it. John's aim is truer and his bullets strike the hound accurately and throw it backwards as it squeals in pain and crashes to the ground, unmoving.

Sherlock runs over to Henry and pushes him towards the hound, "Look at it, Henry."

Scarlett groans, "Oh my gosh… dad no."

"No, no, no!" Henry yelled refusing to move or look at the dead dog.

"Come on, look at it!" Sherlock shoves him forward determinedly.

He torments Henry forward until they can both clearly see it lying on the ground. In Sherlock's flashlight shows clearly nothing more than a huge dog. Henry stares at it for a moment and then turns back to where Frankland is still holding his injury. Henry looks at Frankland, "It's just ... you bastard."

Hurling himself at the older man, he screams with rage, "You bastard! Twenty years! Twenty years of my life making no sense! Why didn't you just kill me!" he screams into his face as John and Greg run over and try to pull him off.

"Because dead men get listened to. He needed to do more than kill you. He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father, and he had the means right at his feet – a chemical minefield, pressure pads in the ground dosing you up every time that you came back here," Sherlock explained.

He holds his arms out wide and spins slowly in a circle as he gestures around the Hollow, "Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once. Oh, this case, Henry! Thank you. It's been brilliant," Sherlock said with delight.

"Dad," Scarlett hissed.

Sherlock turns, "What?"

"Timing," John glared at him pointy.

Sherlock still look at them with confusion, "Not good?"

Henry shook his head, "No, no, it's – it's okay. It's fine, because this means ... this means that my dad was right."

Frankland gets up onto his knees as Henry still tries to move towards him. John and Greg both put a gentle hand onto his shoulders to keep him back, "He found something out, didn't he, and that's why you'd killed him – because he was right, and he'd found you right in the middle of an experiment."

Frankland gets to his feet but before he can say anything there's a savage snarl from behind the group. Everybody spins towards the dog as it whines in pain but gets up off the ground. John aims and fires towards it twice and it go down again. Frankland grabs Scarlett from behind and started to drag her with him, "Dad!" Scarlett screams from a distant. Sherlock turned around and noticed that his daughter and the scientist were gone. Sherlock runs right across John's line of fire, forcing him to lower his pistol, and chases off after the scientist. John turns and follows him up the slope.

"Let me go!" Scarlett screamed as she struggles to escape his gasp.

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"It's no use you're injured he will catch you," she smirked up at him.

"If he does I can kill you in this spot," he warned her.

Scarlett chuckled, "I will like to see you try."

Before Franklin could ask what she was talking about he felt the back of her head on his face. He let her go while he had his hands covered his face. Scarlett quickly got up and ran toward her father.

"Dad!" she yelled.

"Are you alright?" he asked trying to see if she was still in one piece."

She nodded, "I'm alright, hurry go catch him!"

Sherlock nodded and the group ran for Franklin. Reaching the barbed wire fence surrounding the minefield, Frankland doesn't hesitate and jumps over. He jumps up and runs on a few yards but then stops abruptly as his foot thumps down onto a mine, which makes a distinctive clink indicating that he has activated its pressure pad. He stares down at his foot, shining his torch onto the mine underneath and realizing that unless he remains completely still and doesn't lift any pressure off it, the mine will blow. As the others hurry towards the barbed wire, he raises his head, sighs in resignation and deliberately lifts his foot. The others skid to a halt and duck down as a massive explosion rips into the air. As the blast dies down, Henry sinks back against a nearby tree while Sherlock gazes reflectively across the minefield, John and Lestrade look at it with shocked. Sherlock looks at Scarlett who was staring at the explosion; Sherlock noticed that body pieces were on the air. He walks behind Scarlett and covers her eyes.

"I'm not scared," she whispered to him.

Sherlock nods, "I know, but I don't think your mother will like you to see this," he whispered to her and continues to look at the explosion.

In Cross Keys Inn, John and Scarlett are sitting at one of the outdoor tables and. Billy brings out a plate containing vegetarian equivalent of a full English breakfast and puts it on the table in front of them.

"Thanks Billy," said John.

As Billy walks away, Sherlock brings over three mugs and puts one down on the table.

"So they didn't have it put down, then – the dog," said Sherlock.

Scarlett raised a brow, "Obviously."

John tuck his breakfast while Sherlock is standing next to him drinking his coffee,.

"Suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it," John suggests.

Sherlock nod his head, "I see."

John smiles, "No, you don't"

Sherlock shook his head with agreement, "No, I don't. Sentiment?"

Scarlett nods her head, "Sentiment."

Sherlock sits down on the bench next to John, "Listen: what happened to me in the lab?" John asked.

Sherlock looks at him for a moment, then turns around and reaches for a box of sauce sachets, looking worried about how he's ever going to explain all this, "Do you want some sauce with that?"

"I mean, I hadn't been to the Hollow, so how come I heard those things in there? Fear and stimulus, you said."

"You must have been dosed with it elsewhere, when you went to the lab, maybe. You saw those pipes – pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve; and they were carrying the gas, so ... Um, ketchup, was it, or brown ?" Sherlock asked as he rumbles through the box.

"Hang on! You thought it was in the sugar," Scarlett jested as she points her fork at Sherlock.

Sherlock stares at her while trying to maintain a neutral expression.

"You were convinced it was in the sugar," John reminded him.

"Better get going, actually. There's a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want ..." said Sherlock as he looks at his watch.

Scarlett smirked, "It was you. _You_ locked us in that bloody lab."

"It was an experiment," Sherlock protest."

"An experiment?" John yelled furiously.

"Shhh.." said Sherlock as he looks at the people nearby, not wanting people to hear them.

"I was terrified, Sherlock. I was scared to death," said John this time quietly but still sounding furious.

"I thought that the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee, then I arranged everything with Major Barrymore," Sherlock explained.

Both John and Scarlett sigh heavily.

"It was all totally scientific, laboratory conditions – well, literally," Sherlock added.

"Well, I knew what effect it had had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it on an average one."

Scarlett and John both looked up from their plates.

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "You know what I mean."

Scarlett shook her head, "No, if you remember my mind is not average."

"Obviously not, but you've been thinking like one."

"Shut up!" she snapped.

"But it wasn't in the sugar," said John trying to break the tension.

"No, well, I wasn't to know you'd already been exposed to the gas," said Sherlock not wanting to admit he was wrong.

"So technically you got it wrong," Scarlett smirks at him.

"No," Sherlock replied dryly.

"You were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar. You got it wrong," said John as he was having fun torturing his friend.

"A bit. It won't happen again," Sherlock admitted.

"Any long effect?" Scarlett asked.

Sherlock shook his head, "None at all. You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will."

"Think I might have taken care of that already," John joked.

Sherlock snorts laughter, and then looks across to a nearby table where Gary is pouring coffee for two other customers. He smiles apologetically across to Sherlock, who puts his mug on the table and stands up.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Won't be a minute. Gotta see a man about a dog," Sherlock smiles at him and walks away.

"Be right back," said Scarlett as she walks to her father.

When she was standing next to dad she whispered, "You were different when you tried to calm Henry down."

Sherlock sigh, "Obviously, it was all an act."

Scarlett shook her head, "It didn't look like that to me."

Sherlock looks down at her and raised a brow, "What do you mean?"

Scarlett gave him a weak smile, "You were thinking about mum weren't you?"

When she said that Sherlock's eyes went cold and looked away from her, "What makes you think of that?"

Scarlett shrugged, "You told me you thought mum committed suicide, and of course she wasn't, but you still had that feeling what you could have done to stop it."

Sherlock didn't say anything for a while, then he pat her head, "Maybe you don't have an average mind after all," he smiled down at her.

Scarlett couldn't help herself but to smile back to her father.


	11. The Fall part 1

"Falls of the Reichenbach, Turner's masterpiece, thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said the director of the gallery as he finish his speech. The audience applauds while Sherlock, John, and Scarlett are standing nearby. The director goes up to Sherlock and gives him a gift, "A small token of our gratitude."

Sherlock takes the box and looks at it, "Diamond cufflinks. All my cuffs have buttons," he uttered.

John smiles at the director, "He means thank you."

Sherlock looks at John, "Do I?"

"Just say it," Scarlett hissed at him as she gave the director a fake smile.

Sherlock tolled his eyes and looks at the director, "Thank you," he said with insincerely.

He starts to walk away but John and Scarlett holds him back. Sherlock stops unwillingly as the press start taking photographs.

Couple days later, the three found them outside at the banker's house, the rescued man standing with his arms around his family as the press photographs them while the three stands uncomfortably nearby.

"Back together with my family after my terrifying ordeal; and we have one person to thank for my deliverance – Sherlock Holmes," said the banker. The public applaud the banker's son smiles and hands a gift to Sherlock. Sherlock takes the gift and started to shake it, "Tie pin. I don't wear tie pins."

"Ssh," John hissed at him.

The three now found themselves at Scotland Yard where Lestrade is addressing a press conference. Sherlock, John, and Scarlett stand nearby.

"Peter Ricoletti: number one on Interpol's Most Wanted list since nineteen eighty-two. But we got him; and there's one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads ... with all his customary diplomacy and tact," Lestrade joked.

Sherlock smiles insincerely towards Lestrade while Scarlett leans closer to her dad to whisper, "Sarcasm."

"Yes," Sherlock agreed.

As the press applauds, Greg walks over to Sherlock and gives him a wrapped package, "We all chipped in."

Sherlock opens the gift and holds up a deerstalker hat.

"Oh!" said Sherlock trying to look delight.

Numerous people then shouted for him to put the hat on, and he just stood there staring at them as if he was ready to murder them.

"Yeah, Sherlock, put it on!" Lestrade encouraged.

"Just get it over with," John whispered to him.

Sherlock shoves the wrapping paper into his hands, and then puts the hat on his head. Flashbulbs go mad. Sherlock smiles at the press through gritted.

In 221B Baker Street, John and Scarlett are sitting on the sofa reading the papers while Sherlock, wearing his blue dressing gown, stomps across the room and throws the Daily Star onto the pile of newspapers on the coffee table.

"'Boffin'? Boffin Sherlock Holmes,"

"Everyone gets one," John told him.

"One what?" Sherlock asked looking confused.

"Tabloid nickname: 'SuBo'; 'Nasty Nick'. Shouldn't worry, I'll probably get one soon."

"Page five, column six, first sentence," Sherlock informed him as John turns to the relevant page. Sherlock goes over to the fireplace, picks up the deerstalker, holds it up and punches it angrily.

"Why is it always the hat photograph?" he yelled furiously.

"Maybe because it makes you look like an idiot," Scarlett mocks him.

"Bachelor John Watson?" John yelled as he read through the newspaper.

Scarlett couldn't help herself but laugh, "Shut up Scarlett!" John snaps at her.

"I'm so sorry I didn't you know you guys were in a relationship," she continue to laugh.

John shook his head and decided not even bother to argue with her, so continues to read the paper.

"'Bachelor'? What the hell are they implying?"

"Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?" Sherlock holds up the hat and twists it back and forth rapidly.

"It's a deerstalker," Scarlett rolled her eyes.

""Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson and skanky teenager ..."

"What did they just call me?" Scarlett got up from her seat and read the paper with John.

"You stalk a deer with a hat? What are you gonna do throw it?"

"What the heck I don't dress skanky," Scarlett glanced up briefly, "No you're supposed to wear it,"

"... confirmed bachelor John Watson! Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful," John warned them.

"It's got flaps ... ear flaps. It's an ear hat, John," Sherlock toss the hat across the room to John.

"What do you mean, more careful?" Sherlock asked John.

"I mean this isn't a deerstalker now; it's a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you're not exactly a private detective any more. You're this far from famous," John informed him.

"Oh, it'll pass," he slumps down into his armchair and folds his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth.

"It'd better pass. The press will turn, dad. They always turn, and they'll turn on you," Scarlett warns him.

Sherlock lowers his hands and looks more closely at John and Scarlett.

"It really bothers you two."

"What?" John and Scarlett asked.

"What people say."

"Yes," said John.

Scarlett shook her head, "No."

John narrows his eyes at her, "Whose side are you on me or him?"

Scarlett shrugged, "I don't know John you do your deduction."

Sherlock cut them off, "About me? I don't understand, why would it upset you two?"

"Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news," John warned him.

"Just quick question, do I really dress skanky?" Scarlett asked trying to change the subject.

"Just a little," said John.

Scarlett went up to her dad and lent out her hand, "I need to go shopping."

Sherlock raised a brow, "What for?"

"Buy clothes that don't look skanky," she replied sarcastically.

"Let me think… no. Beside you don't dress like one."

"Really?" she asked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Scarlett, if you did I would sent you to Mycroft's."

Scarlett nods her head, "True."

"Aren't you supposed to be at school?" Sherlock asked.

Scarlett rolled her eyes, "I graduated last week remember?"

Sherlock gazed at the wall for a little bit then he remembered, "oh!"

"Yeah, thought so," she uttered as she walk away from the room.

"I'm surprise that they let you graduate early with your poor attendance," said John as he looks through the papers.

"The headmaster wanted to get rid of me fast, besides I'm glad I don't need to go back to that school anyway," Scarlett uttered.

"So where are you planning to go to school?" John asked

Scarlett raised a brow, "What school?"

"University Scarlett, where are you planning to go?"

"I'm not planning to go."

"But you have to!" John protest.

"Why? I'm already doing a job that I love, so what's the point going to school?"

"What about money? You do need money."

Scarlett shrugs, "I can live off with dad's money."

"What if something happens to him? He's not going to be around forever Scarlett."

"John, we've been through a lot of dangerous stuff, beside nothing can kill dad," Scarlett smirked.

John shook his head with disappointment; he saw no point of continuing to argue with her.

It was 11 in the morning Sherlock and Scarlett are sitting at the table in the kitchen, looking into their microscopes. John comes along the corridor leading from Sherlock's bedroom with wet hair, wearing a bathrobe and toweling the back of his neck dry.

Scarlett looked up from her microscope, "Whoa John, teenage girl in the house," she joked.

"Ha ha really funny," John replied sarcastically, "Beside we're use not having you here."

"Rude!" she raised her voice.

"It's your phone," John looks at Sherlock.

"Mm. Keeps doing that," said Sherlock not even bothering to look up.

John walks into the living room past the body in a suit which is hanging by its neck from the ceiling and sits down in his chair, picking up a newspaper. The body sways gently in the breeze.

"So, did you just talk to him for a really long time?" John asked.

Sherlock looks up and glances across to the body, "Oh. Henry Fishgard never committed suicide."

He picks up an old hardback book from the table and slams it shut in a flurry of dust, which made Scarlett cough, before going back to his microscope.

"Bow Street Runners, missed everything."

"Pressing case, is it?"

"They're all pressing 'til they're solved," Scarlett whispered and went back to her microscope.

Thirty minutes later Sherlock's phone went off again.

"I'll get it, shall I?" said John tetchily. He gets up and walks over to the phone, picking it up and checking the message as Sherlock continues to look into his microscope. John's face slowly fills with shock. He turns and takes the phone to the kitchen, holding it out to Sherlock.

"Here."

"Not now, I'm busy," said Sherlock not bothering to look up.

"Sherlock ..."

"Not now."

John pauses for a moment and breathe heavily, "He's back,"

Sherlock lifts his head and takes the phone. The message reads:

**Come and play.**

**Tower Hill.**

**Jim Moriarty x.**

Sherlock's eyes widen and he sinks back on his chair and gazes into space. Then they hear glass shatter on the floor, they both turn to the sound, there was Scarlett standing near the sink while shatter glasses were in front of her. Her entire body trembles, eyes widen, and face was pale.

"Scarlett, you alright?" John looks at her with concern.

Scarlett shook her head, "He can't…" she whispered.

The flat was now dead silence.

**Review Please :) THANKS **


	12. The Fall part 2

Later, Sherlock, John, and Scarlett have arrived at the Tower and they are watching the recorded security footage taken from behind Jim as he sticks the gum onto the glass. From a distance it's not clear what he then pushes into the gum.

"That glass is tougher than anything," said Lestrade as he adjusts the footage.

"Not tougher than crystallized carbon. He used a diamond," Sherlock points out.

The footage also goes into reverse, showing the glass rising back up into place before it shattered. As Jim pulls the fire extinguisher back again and the glass becomes whole, the message which he scrawled onto it becomes clear. He deliberately wrote the words backwards on the glass so that they would be seen from the camera on the other side of the case the message reads:

GET

SHERLOCK

John and Scarlett turns and stares at Sherlock but his eyes are fixed on the screen.

In 221B. John is standing in front of the mirror in the living room. He is wearing a suit and finishes tying his tie before putting his jacket on. Near the sofa, Sherlock is buttoning up his own jacket. Scarlett was in her room wearing her new black dress her father bought, her hair were loose and curled, she put on a shade of makeup and look at herself in the mirror.

"Scarlett, are you ready?" Sherlock yelled for you.

Scarlett looks at the closed door, "Coming!" she yelled as she walks out of her room.

Sherlock leads the way downstairs and goes to the front door, then stops and turns to the side to allow John and Scarlett to pass him and reach out towards the door.

"Ready?" John asked.

Both Sherlock and Scarlett nod, "Yes."

Revitalizing himself, John opens the door. Police officers are trying to hold back the large crowd of journalists who immediately start photographing the three and calling out questions as the police clear the way and allow the three through to the waiting police car. They get into the back and the car pulls away and races off with its sirens wailing.

"Remember," but Sherlock cut John off.

"Yes," he said instantly.

"Remember…"

"Yes," Sherlock said even more quickly.

John looks away in frustration, then goes for broke and speaks quickly, "Remember what they told you: don't try to be clever ..."

"No," Sherlock interrupts him again.

"... and please, just keep it simple and brief."

"God forbid the star witness at the trial should come across as intelligent," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"'Intelligent', fine; let's give 'smart-arse' a wide berth."

"I'll just be myself," Sherlock told him.

"Are you listening to me?" John asked sounding irritated.

"Oh my gosh you guys fight like an old married couple!" Scarlett rolls her eyes.

"Shut up Scarlett!" John snaps at her.

"I really don't understand why I have to come also," said Scarlett as she cross her arms on her chest.

"Because you were kidnapped by Moriarity remember?" John raised a brow.

"I know that… I just don't want to face him," Scarlett uttered as she look at the ground.

"You don't have to, we'll be with you," John smiles at her.

Scarlett nods, "I know."

"But that also means you have to keep it simple and brief," John pointed his fingers at her.

Scarlett roll her eyes, "Yes, mum~" she mocked.

Sherlock is in the bathroom at the Old Bailey washing his hands.

"Crown versus Moriarty – please proceed to Court Ten."

As he turns off the taps, a woman standing behind him and wearing a deerstalker hat stares at him in awestruck amazement as her bag slips out of her fingers and drops to the floor.

"You're him!" the woman gasps.

Sherlock roll his eyes, "Wrong toilet."

The woman ignores his remark, "I'm a big fan."

"Evidently," said Sherlock as he turns toward her.

"I read your cases; follow them all. Sign my shirt, would you?" she steps closer gazing at him admiringly. She peels back her coat to reveal that her blouse is opened quite low and she is showing a lot of cleavage. She offers him a pen which she already has in her hand.

"Having a 16 years old daughter I learned there are two types of fans," Sherlock told her.

The woman raised a brow, "OH?"

""Catch me before I kill again" Type A."

The woman nods her head, "Uh-huh. What's Type B?"

"Your bedroom's just a taxi ride away," Sherlock responded calmly.

The woman grins, locking her eyes on his, "Guess which one I am."

Sherlock runs his eyes down her body and does a speed deduction.

He answered instantly, "Neither."

The woman blinks nervously, "Really?"

He looks at the indentations just below her right wrist, "Those marks on your forearm: edge of a desk. You've been typing in a hurry, probably. Pressure on; facing a deadline."

The woman looks away, "That's all?"

"And there's a smudge of ink on your wrist; and a bulge in your left jacket pocket," he points out.

The woman shrugs, "Bit of a giveaway."

"The smudge is deliberate, to see if I'm as good as they say I am," he lifts her hand and sniffs the ink on her wrist.

"Hmm. Oil-based; used in newspaper print, but drawn on with an index finger; your finger. Journalist, unlikely you'd get your hands dirty at the press. You put that there to test me."

The woman smiles at him, "Wow, I'm liking you!"

"You mean I'd make a great feature: "Sherlock Holmes – the man beneath the hat"," he corrects her.

"Kitty Riley. Pleased to meet you," said Kitty as she took off her hat and offers her hand to him.

"No. I'm just saving you the trouble of asking. No, I won't give you an interview; no, I don't want the money. No, I'm not giving out any information about Scarlett or her mother," said Sherlock as he pushes past her, he heads for the door. She chases after him, "You and John Watson – just platonic? Can I put you down for a "no" there, as well?"

She stops him from opening the door and gets in his way, stepping well into his personal space. He breathes loudly and angrily.

"There are all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you're gonna need someone on your side ..." Reaching into her pocket, she holds up her business card and then tucks it into his breast pocket.

"... someone to set the record straight."

Sherlock smiles sarcastically, "And you think you're the girl for that job, do you?"

Kitty narrows her eyes at him, "I'm smart, and you can trust me, totally."

Sherlock nods, "Smart, okay: investigative journalist, Good. Well, look at me and tell me what you see."

She stares at him blankly; perhaps a little stunned by the way he is swaying gently in front of her, "If you're that skillful, you don't need an interview. You can just read what you need."

She looks awkward and can't continue to meet his eyes.

"No? Okay, my turn," said Sherlock as he paces around her as he looks her over.

"I look at you and I see someone who's still waiting for their first big scoop so that their editor will notice them. You're wearing an expensive skirt but it's been re-hemmed twice; only posh skirt you've got. And your nails: you can't afford to do them that often. I see someone who's hungry. I don't see smart like my daughter, and I definitely don't see trustworthy, but I'll give you a quote if you like three little words."

He reaches down and takes the Dictaphone from her pocket, holding it up to his mouth as she steps closer hopefully.

He took a deep breathy and slowly said, "You ... repel ... me."

He leaves the bathroom leaving Kitty who was now stunned and hurt.

Scarlett was leaning against the wall waiting for her father to come out of the bathroom. She looks at her cell phone and realized her father has been in the bathroom over 15minutes, which she found it odd. She spots her dad coming out of the bathroom, she sigh and walks towards him, "What took you so long?" She yelled. She stops when she saw a red head woman coming out of the same bathroom.

"Any point of me asking what happened in there?" she raised a brow.

"She just wanted an interview," he told her as they walking to the court room.

"You must have said something mean. She looked upset."

Sherlock roll his eyes, "I told her I was not interested doing an interview."

"You better watch what you say to them dad, they can make everyone turn your back," she warned him.

Sherlock shrugs, "So? What change will it make if people turn their back on me?"

Scarlett sigh with disappointment, "Just be careful what you say okay?"

Scarlett was called to give his evidence and is standing in the witness box. Jim is in the dock opposite of her, he smiles at her and gave her a wink, which made Scarlett tremble. John is sitting in the public gallery upstairs while Sherlock was sitting on the witness table.

"Ms. Holmes is this the same man that kidnapped you last May?" the prosecuting barrister asked.

Scarlett nods nervously, "Yes."

"You sure?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes, "A victim will always remember their kidnapper."

She looks up at Moriarity who was now nodding at her.

"Ms. Holmes would you tell us how you met James Moriarty?"

Scarlett nods her head, "I was walking in the street of London crying…"

"And why were you crying?" the prosecuting barrister interrupted her.

"I just found out that Sherlock Holmes was my biological father."

"Any why did this made you sad?" the prosecuting barrister continues to ask.

Scarlett roll her eyes, "Do you want me to tell you how I met him or not?" she raised her voice.

John rolls his eyes and covers his face with his hands.

The prosecuting barrister glares at her, "You may go on Ms. Holmes."

Scarlett smiles at her, "Thank you. While I was walking in the street of London. A black car pulled aside, he asked me what was wrong and told me to come into the car."

"Did you go into the car?"

Scarlett shook her head, "I told him no, since I didn't know who he was. When I was ready to walk away the car door opens and pulls me inside of the car and drove off."

"And nobody saw this happening?" the prosecuting barrister raised a brow.

Scarlett smirk, "There's a lot of things go around in London, but ordinary people rarely use their mind to see what's going on."

Scarlett looks at her father who was now smiling at her; he knew he taught his daughter so well.

"Ms. Holmes you've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to tell us your scientific fact!" The judge yelled at her angrily.

Scarlett glares at the judge, "I'm sorry… your honor."

"Ms. Holmes, what happened after James Moriarity kidnapped you?" Ms. Sorrel asked.

Scarlett gazed up at the ceiling trying to remember, "He locked me up in abandon shed for three days, and he tied me up in a chair. Gave me food and water which I refused to take because I thought they were poison. Then burn the shed and left me to die," Scarlett smiles at the crowd.

"How did you survive from the fire?"

Scarlett shrug, "My father rescued me of course."

"Where there any injuries?"

"Just a lung collapse," Scarlett replied sarcastically.

"Ms. Holmes how will you describe James Moriarity?"

Her smile drops and she was now facing Moriarity, "He's insane, playing his victims like a hunter waiting for its prey," she whispered.

The judge nods his head, "Thank you Ms. Holmes you may take your seat."

Scarlett gave a quick nod and went to join with her father.

"Nice job," he whispers to her without looking at her.

"Thanks," she replied.

"Mr. Holmes will you please come up to the stand," said the judge.

Sherlock sigh heavily and did what he was told.

"A "consulting criminal"," asked the prosecuting barrier.

"Yes."

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?"

"James Moriarty is for hire."

The prosecuting barrier raised a brow, "A tradesman?"

Sherlock nods, "Yes."

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating," the prosecuting barrier joked.

"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler."

There's muffled laughter from some people in the court, and the prosecuting barrister tries to hide her smile, "Would you describe him as ..."

Sherlock cut her off, "Leading."

"What?"

"Can't do that. You're leading the witness. He'll object and the judge will uphold," said Sherlock as he looks toward the defending barrister.

"Mr. Holmes," said the judge looking annoyed.

"Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?" Sherlock mocked them.

"Mr. Holmes, we're fine without your help!"

"How would you describe this man, his character?" the prosecuting barrier correct herself.

"First mistake. James Moriarty isn't a man at all – he's a spider; a spider at the center of a web – a criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances," said Sherlock as he gaze at Moriarty who was nodding his head in approval of the description while the prosecuting barrister clears her throat awkwardly.

"And how long ..."

Sherlock closed his eyes in annoyance, "No, no, don't-don't do that. That's really not a good question."

"Mr. Holmes!" said the judge angrily.

"How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert, after knowing the accused for just five minutes?" ask the judge with disbelief.

"Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample."

"Mr. Holmes, that's a matter for the jury."

"Oh, really?"

Scarlett and John took a deep breathe, they knew what was going to happen next, and it was not going to pretty.

"One librarian; two teachers; two high-pressured jobs, probably the City. The foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand."

"Mr. Holmes!" the judge yelled furiously.

But Sherlock ignored him and continues, "Seven are married and two are having an affair – with each other, it would seem! Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?" Sherlock turns to the judge.

The judge looked at him angrily, "Mr. Holmes. You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess. Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?"

Sherlock paused for a moment while Scarlett mouths her father to stop. But he smiles at her and began to open his mouth. Five minutes later he was removed from the court immediately, and they both merely sat there pissed off.

**Please Review :)**


	13. The Fall part 3

Sometime later Sherlock is being released. As he signs for his personal property, John is standing beside him leaning back on the desk with his arms folded and Scarlett was playing with her phone.

"What did I say? I said, "Don't get clever"," John scowled him.

"I can't just turn it on and off like a tap," said Sherlock taking the bag of items from the custody officer, he turns to John and Scarlett.

"Well?" he raised a brow.

"Well what?" John asked.

"You two were there for the whole thing, up in the gallery, start to finish."

"Like you said it would be ..." but Scarlett cut him off.

"... he sat on his backside, never even stirred."

"Moriarty's not mounting any defense."

The three walk into the living room.

"Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville. Three of the most secure places in the country and six weeks ago Moriarty breaks in, no-one knows how or why," said John as he sit on his armchair while Scarlett collapse on the sofa from tiredness.

"All we know is ..." but Scarlett trailed off.

"... he ended up in custody," Sherlock finish her sentence for her.

He stops and turns to John. John takes a breath, "Don't do that?"

Sherlock started to look confuse, "Do what?"

"The look."

"Look?" Sherlock raised a brow.

"You're doing the look again," John pointed out.

"Well, I can't see it, can I?"

John points to the mirror on the wall. Sherlock turns his head and looks at his reflection, "It's my face."

"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're doing a "we all know what's really going on here" face."

"Well, we do."

"No. I don't, which is why I find The Face so annoying," John point his finger at him.

"If Moriarty wanted the Jewels, he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners free, they'd be out on the streets. The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there. It must be a scheme," said Sherlock as he pace the room.

"Scarlett, I bet you know what's going on."

There wasn't answer both Sherlock and John look at Scarlett who was now fast asleep on the couch.

"Why is she asleep?" Sherlock asked.

John raised a brow, "Because it's been a long day for her Sherlock. Think of all the stress she had being in the same room with Moriarity again. I bet you have noticed."

Sherlock nod his head, "She tries to make a brave face but you tell she was still nervous when she was playing with her hands… Jennalie used to do that often."

John looks at Sherlock, it was rare for him to mention about his dead wife which made John suspicious.

"So what should we do with her?" Sherlock looks at John as he points at Scarlett.

John shrugs, "She's your daughter Sherlock, not mine."

John got up and went up to his room. Sherlock sigh, he grabs a blanket nearby and put it over Scarlett who was breathing steadily.

"Good night," he whispered into her ear and kissed her on the forehead.

The next day Scarlett and John found themselves in the court room again. The judge took his seat and looks at the defending barrier, "Mr. Crayhill, can we have your first witness?"

The defending barrister rises to his feet, "Your Honor, we're not calling any witnesses."

There are cries of surprise around the court, and John frowns in confusion.

"I don't follow. You've entered a plea of Not Guilty."

The defender looks at the judge nervously, "Nevertheless, my client is offering no evidence. The defense rests," he sits down. Moriarty looks up at John and Scarlett, he smiles at them then gave them a shrug.

The Judge looks at the crowd in the room, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. James Moriarty stands accused of several counts of attempted burglary, crimes which – if he's found guilty – will elicit a very long custodial sentence; and yet his legal team has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever to support their plea. I find myself in the unusual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must find him guilty."

"Scarlett closed her eyes and whispers, "Guilty"

The court adjourns at 10:42. At 10:50 John and Scarlett are sitting on a bench just outside the courtroom when the Clerk of the Court hurries out of a side room.

"They're coming back," the clerk warned them.

John looks down at his watch, "That's six minutes," John looks at the clerk with disbelief.

"Surprised it took them that long, to be honest. There's a queue for the loo."

Both John and Scarlett looked at each other, "Should it really be that long?" John asked.

Scarlett shrugs, "Well, what he did was serious."

They both follow the rest of the crowd back into the courtroom. When everyone was seated, the clerk stood up and faced the jury.

"Have you reached a verdict on which you all agree?" he asked.

Scarlett observes the jury who were now staring at the room unhappily. She stopped breathing and grabs John's hand.

John looks at her with concern, "What's wrong Scarlett? Are you having another asthma attack?"

Scarlett shook her head slowly, "No, they can't," she whispered.

John raised a brow, "What are you talking about?"

Scarlett didn't say anything, but continue to look at Moriarity with wide eye.

""We have. We the jury fined the defendant, James Moriarty…not guilty."

Outside the court, John is hurrying along the pavement while he was on the phone, "Not Guilty. They found him Not Guilty. No defense and Moriarty's walked free."

Scarlett quickly follows John from behind and tries to listen to the conversation.

"Sherlock. Are you listening? He's out. You-you know he'll be coming after you Sherlock!" John yelled.

"What's wrong?" Scarlett asked.

"He just hangs up on me!" he yelled as he looks at the phone with disgust.

"I bet he's mad about it," Scarlett suggested as she wipe her hair away from her face.

"How could they just let him walk free, after all he did?" John raised a brow.

Scarlett looks at him nervously, "Obvious isn't it?"

John shook his head. "Not to me."

Scarlett roll her eyes, "Every person has their pressure point; someone that they want to protect from harm."

John looks at her with confusion, "So you're saying Moriarity bribe them?"

Scarlett shrug, "Could be… TAXI!" Scarlett hails for a taxi.

"Where do you think you're going?" John asked.

"Need to go check on dad, if Moriarity is able to walk free in London the first person he'll go see is dad."

"Let me come with you."

Scarlett shook her head, "No, I need you to do some grocery shopping, we're out of food."

John looks at her angrily, "The most dangerous man in England is at our flat and you want me to go grocery shopping?"

Scarlett smiles, "Yes!"

John shook his head with disbelief, "I'll be back by dinner."

A taxi finally stops for her, and John opens the door for her, "Be careful," he warns her.

Scarlett smiles back at him, "I always am."

"Really?" John raised a brow.

"I'll be fine! Stop worrying."

She got in the cab and drove off in the street of London, when she was a mile away from John her body started to tremble and try to hold back her emotions.

Sherlock was in the living room playing his favorite piece No. 1 in G minor by Bach. He could hear the front door open and someone climbing up the stairs. He stops playing and didn't hear anymore footsteps. He resumes the song again until Moriarity push open the door. Sherlock stops playing but didn't bother to turn around, "Most people knock. But then you're not most people, I suppose."

He gestures over his shoulder with his bow towards the table, "Kettle's just boiled."

Moriarty walks further into the room and bends to pick up an apple from the bowl on the coffee table,  
"Johann Sebastian would be appalled," said Moriarity as he toss the apple while gazing at the room.

"May I?"

"Please," said Sherlock as he point his bow to John's favorite armchair, instead Moriarity walks over to Sherlock's chair and sits in that one instead. Sherlock narrows his eyes at him. Moriarty takes out a small pocket knife and starts to cut into the apple as Sherlock puts down the violin and begins to pour tea into the cups.

"You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end ..."

""And the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it," Sherlock finish the sentence for him.

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

""Neither can you. It's why you've come."

"But be honest, you're just a tiny bit pleased."

"What, with the verdict?" Sherlock picks up a teacup, adds a splash of milk and offers the cup to Moriarity.

"With me. Back on the streets. Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain," he smiled up at him while Sherlock turns away and adds milk to his own cup.

"You need me, or you're nothing," Moriarty told him. "Because we're just alike, you and I. Except you're boring. You're on the side of the angels." He shakes his head in disappointment, "You're on the side of the angels."

Moriarty sips his tea as Sherlock picks up his own cup and stirs his.

Got to the jury, of course," said Sherlock.

"I got into the Tower of London; you think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?"

"Cable Network," Sherlock concluded.

Moriarty nod his head, "Every hotel bedroom has a personalized TV screen and every person has their pressure point; someone that they want to protect from harm. Which you have in common with these people."

"Their children," Sherlock whispers.

"How's your little princess? She's gotten a lot sexy the last time I saw her. I could tell she misses me," Moriarty smiles at him as he took a sip of tea.

"So how're you going to do it …" Sherlock gently blow his tea, "…burn me?"

"Oh, that's the problem, the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Moriarty asked softly.

Sherlock has taken a sip of his tea and looks across his cup to the other man.

"What's the final problem?" He smiles across his own cup, "I did tell you, but did you listen?" sing-song but still softly. He takes another sip of tea and then puts the cup down into the saucer. Putting his hand onto his knee, he starts idly drumming his fingers.

"How hard do you find it, having to say "I don't know"?"

Sherlock puts his cup into its saucer and shrugs, "I don't know."

"Oh, that's clever; that's very clever; awfully clever."

He chuckles as Sherlock smiles humorlessly while putting his cup back onto the tray.

"Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?"

"Told them what?"

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything."

"No."

"But you understand."

"Obviously."

"Off you go then," Moriarty carves a piece off his apple and puts it into his mouth with the flat of his penknife.

Sherlock raised a brow, "You want me to tell you what you already know?"

"No, I want you to prove that you know it," he corrected him.

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to," Sherlock answered.

"Good," Moriarty said softly.

"You'll never need to take anything ever again."

"Very good. Because ...?"

"Because nothing ... nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three."

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now – they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy – I own secrecy. Nuclear codes – I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king; and honey, you should see me in a crown," he smiles at Sherlock with delight.

"You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do."

"And you were helping. Big client list: rogue governments, intelligence communities ... terrorist cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I'm Mr. Sex," he smirks as he chews on his piece of apple.

"If you could break any bank, what do you care about the highest bidder?"

"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. 'Daddy loves me the best!' Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well, you know. You've got John, and Scarlett. I should get myself a live-in set."

"Why are you doing all of this?" asked Sherlock but this time his voice went cold.

"It'd be so funny," still thinking about having a live-in ordinary person.

"You don't want money or power, not really. What is it all for?"

"I want to solve the problem – our problem; the final problem," he said softly. He lowers his head, "It's gonna start very soon, Sherlock: the fall."

He raises his head and whistles a slowly descending note as he gradually looks down towards the floor, "But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying except there's a more permanent destination," his gaze reaches the floor and he makes the sound of something thudding to the ground. Raising his head slowly, he glowers across at Sherlock, who bares his teeth slightly and then stands and buttons his jacket.

"Never liked riddles," Sherlock admitted.

Jim stands as well and straightens his jacket, locking his gaze onto Sherlock's eyes, "Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I ... owe ... you."

Then they heard the door slammed and footsteps running up the stairs.

"Dad, you home?" Scarlett yelled for Sherlock.

When she reached the flat, her entire body stops when she saw Moriarity facing her father. Her entire body starts to tremble, eyes wide, and her face went pale.

Moriarty smiles at her, "Scarlett, how have you been?"

Scarlett breathes slowly, "Fine."

Moriarty goes toward her and stroke her soft pale cheeks, "You've become beautiful. Too bad you're so young… than again does age matter?" he gave her an evil smile.

Scarlett eyes went wide, before she could do anything. Sherlock grabs Moriarty's arm and glares at him, "I think you were on your way out."

Moriarty chuckles, "Yeah, I was."

He turns back to Scarlett, "See you around sweetheart."

He stared at Sherlock another moment before slowly walking away, descending the stairs and walking out of the flat. Sherlock's eyes traveled down to the apple he left stuck to his knife on the arm of the chair. Carefully, he picked it up by the handle and rotated the apple around to read what it said, I O U.

When Scarlett realized Moriarty left the flat she collapses on the floor.

"Scarlett?" Sherlock looks at her concern.

When he reach down to help her up Scarlett raised her hand, "I'm alright," her breathe was raspy.

"You sure?"

She nods her head, "Yeah, just too much stress."

Sherlock smiles at her "Go take a hot bath then."

Scarlett nods with agreement, "Okay," she whispers.

She finally got herself to get up and heads to the bathroom. She stops for a moment and turns around to face her father, "What were you guys talking about?"

Sherlock shrugs, "Nothing particular."

Scarlett narrows her eyes, "You're lying."

Sherlock went to the living to put away the tea set, "It's nothing to worry about Scarlett."

"Yes, it is dad!" Scarlett raised her voice.

"Scarlett, as long I'm alive he can't hurt you," Sherlock promised her.

"What if you're not here? Then what am I supposed to do?" The tears started streaming down her cheek, and her throat felt tight, "He's the most dangerous man in England and he's wondering around free. Who knows what he will do next? Maybe you'll find my dead body in the street!" She gave out a violent sob and covers her face with her hands. Sherlock stood there for a minutes and wrap her around his arms.

"I promise you I won't let anything happen to you," he whispers to her as he strokes her hair.

"You promise?" she asked as she cried on his shoulder.

He lets go of her and place his warm hands on her wet cheeks and smiles at her, "I promise."

**Please Review :)**


	14. The Fall part 4

After Two months Sherlock and Scarlett were sitting on the couch, Scarlett lay on his shoulder while reading a book, Sherlock on the other hand was on his laptop looking through his email trying to find an interesting case.

"What are you doing?" Scarlett asked as she looks through his emails.

"What do you think?"

She sigh, "Dull!"

She then rests her head on the arm of the couch and screamed, "I'M BORED!"

Sherlock roll his eyes, "If you're so bored go find something to entertain yourself," Sherlock uttered.

"This world is boring!" she complained.

Sherlock sigh, "Go get a job then!"

Scarlett looks up at him, "I do smart one, and there hasn't been any interesting cases!"

"Why don't you go hang out with your 'friends'," Sherlock suggested.

Scarlett shook her head, "Their still at school."

"What did you and mum do when you guys were bored?" Scarlett asked.

Sherlock shrugs, "Nothing really…"

Scarlett rolls her eyes, "Oh come one you guys must have done something to entertain yourselves."

Sherlock gaze at the ceiling while going through his brain, "Well, we went for a cup of coffee…"

"Dull," she sighs.

Sherlock ignore her remark, "We went to the beach a lot."

"We should go to the beach then! I haven't been there for years!" Scarlett suggested.

"Dull," Sherlock sigh.

Scarlett's smile drops, "How come?"

"There's pretty much nothing to see."

Scarlett grabs his arm and jumps up and down, "Please daddy! Please!"

Sherlock sigh with annoyance, "Okay we'll go next week happy now?"

Scarlett hugs him, "Thank you! Thank you!"

Then they heard two footsteps coming up the stairs and they separated quickly. There was Lestrade and Donovan standing at the door.

"There's been a kidnapping," Lestrade told him. "Two children of the U.S. Ambassador, Rufus Bruhl, were kidnapped."

Sherlock got up from the couch and set his computer on the table. Then John walks into the living looking confused, "Sherlock, there's something weird…What's going on?"

"Kidnapping," Scarlett informed him.

"Rufus Bruhl, the ambassador to the U.S." Lestrade explained to him.

"He's in Washington, isn't he?"

"Not him his children, Max and Claudette, age seven and nine," said Lestrade as Donovan show John pictures of the two children.

"They're at St Aldate's," Lestrade added.

"Posh boarding place down in Surrey," said Donovan.

"The school broke up; all the other boarders went home just a few kids remained, including those two."

"They vanished."

Lestrade looks at Sherlock, "The ambassador's asked for you personally."

Sherlock was already on his feet and heads out to the door with his coat over his arm.

"The Reichenbach Hero," Donovan said sarcastically.

Sherlock walks out the room while everyone else follows him.

"Isn't it great to be working with a celebrity?" Lestrade joked.

Lestrade's car drives into the grounds of the boarding school and pulls up outside the front entrance. Two police cars are already there and a woman is standing in front of one of them wearing a shock blanket around her shoulders and crying while a uniformed female police officer talks reassuringly to her. A man, probably a plain clothed police officer, is talking to her but walks away as Greg, Sally, Scarlett and the boys get out of the car and approach. The woman blows her nose on her handkerchief.

"Ugh, this reminds of school," said Scarlett looking at the school with disgust.

"Welcome back!" John joked.

"Shut up," she uttered.

"Is it alright to bring her here?" Donovan asked as Scarlett rolls her eyes.

"Gosh! Why is everyone treating me like a baby? Hello I've seen dead people."

"She can come with us," Lestrade inform Donovan.

"Miss Mackenzie, House Mistress. Go easy," Lestrade speak quietly to Sherlock. He stays back and lets Sherlock walk over to the woman on his own.

"Miss Mackenzie, you're in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night. What are you: an idiot, a drunk or a criminal?" Sherlock yells at her as he grabs the blanket and abruptly pulls it from around her shoulders.

Everyone turns to Sherlock direction and saw poor Ms. Mackenzie gasping with fear while Sherlock was angrily glaring at her.

"All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No-one – not even me – went into their room last night. You have to believe me!" Miss. Mackenzie said tearfully.

Sherlock's character instantly changes and he smiles calmingly and gently takes hold of her shoulders, "I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly."

He looks at the nearby police officers as he turns and walks away, "Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now," said Sherlock as Miss Mackenzie sobs in distress while the police officers try to calm her down.

John and Scarlett looked at him in disbelief, "You're a horrible man!" Scarlett scowled him.

Sherlock walk pass her as he roll his eyes, "Oh shut up its quicker."

Scarlett shook her head with disappointment and follows her dad.

Inside the school, Sherlock leads the others into one of the dormitories.

"Six grand a term, you'd expect them to keep the kids safe for you. You said the other kids had all left on their holidays?" John asked.

Sherlock has already looked in a cupboard beside one of the beds and now drops to his knees and peers under the bed.

"They were the only two sleeping on this floor. Absolutely no sign of a break-in," Lestrade respond.

Sherlock picks up a lacrosse stick lying on the floor and gets to his feet while looking at the stick closely. He briefly wields it as if using it as a weapon but then apparently decides it wasn't used in that way and drops it to the floor again.

"The intruder must have been hidden inside some place," Scarlett added.

"How do you know?" Lestrade raised a brow.

Scarlett shrugs, "Obvious isn't it?"

Sherlock goes over to a wooden trunk and opens the lid. There was a large envelope and inside was "Grimm's Fairy Tales" book. He looks along the edges of the book and then riffles the pages quickly. Finding nothing of interest, he looks up.

"Show me where the brother slept."

He is taken to another smaller dormitory and looks around, going to stand beside a bed which is facing the door. The door has a frosted glass pane in it. He looks towards the door while gesturing down to the bed.

"The boy sleeps there every night, gazing at the only light source outside in the corridor. He'd recognize every shape, every outline, the silhouette of everyone who came to the door," said Sherlock.

Lestrade raised a brow, "Okay, so…"

"So someone approaches the door that he doesn't recognize, an intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon," Scarlett added.

Leaving the other inside the room, he goes outside the door and pulls it almost closed, then raises his hand and points his fingers as if they're a gun, showing the others how it would be seen through the frosted glass. He pushes the door open and comes back into the room.

"What would he do in the precious few seconds before they came into the room? How would he use them if not to cry out?"

He walks around the bed, looking at the boy's possessions, "This little boy; this particular little boy ... who reads all of those spy books. What would he do? Scarlett what would you do?" he turns to Scarlett.

Scarlett shrugs, "I don't know… leave a message."

Sherlock smiles at her with delight, "Exactly."

Both Sherlock and Scarlett started sniffing, "Do you smell that?" Scarlett asked.

"Smell what?" John asked.

He picks up a cricket bat leaning against the nearby cupboard and sniffs along both sides of it. Putting the bat down again, he squats and sniffs around the bedside table, then reaches under the bed and finds an almost empty glass bottle of linseed oil. He looks up, "Get Anderson!"

Not long afterwards the room has been darkened as much as possible by closing the wooden shutters over the windows. Sherlock shines an ultraviolet light on the wall beside the boy's bed where the words "HELP US" have been written on the wall, only now visible in the light.

"Linseed oil."

"Not much use. Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper," Anderson said to them.

"Brilliant Anderson," Sherlock told him.

Anderson looked at him with surprised, "Really?"

"Yes, brilliant impression of an idiot," both Sherlock and Scarlett mocked him.

He held the light out in front of him and hunched over slightly.

"The floor," Scarlett pointed down.

There are several sets of illuminated footprints of varying sizes leading towards the door. Sherlock follows them slowly.

"He made a trail for us!" John exclaimed.

"The boy was made to walk ahead of them." Sherlock asserted.

John looks at the small footprints, "On, what, tiptoe?"

Scarlett nods, "Indicates anxiety; a gun held to his head."

He walks slowly out into the corridor, which has also been blacked out, and follows the footsteps. Anderson walks beside him with another ultraviolet light.

"The girl was pulled beside him, dragged sideways. He had his left arm cradled about her neck," Sherlock added. After a couple yards the footsteps were now gone.

"That's the end of it. We don't know where they went from here," Anderson pointed out.

"You're right, Anderson – nothing," Sherlock paused for a moment and took a deep breath, "Except his shoe size, his height, his gait, his walking pace."

He reaches to the closest window and tears down the blackout material that had been stuck across it. Daylight floods back into the corridor. Putting the light onto the window sill, he kneels down and takes his wallet of tools and a small lidded plastic Petri dish from his inside pocket. As the police go back towards the bedroom, he puts the dish on the floor, opens the wallet and chuckles contentedly. John squats down beside him.

"Having fun?" Scarlett joins him as she smiles with him.

"Starting to."

"Maybe don't do the smiling," said John as he knelt down between them.

Both Sherlock and Scarlett look up at him.

"Kidnapped children?" John reminded them.

Sherlock lowers his head again and concentrates on scraping some of the dried linseed oil and floor wax loose with a small scalpel and then using tweezers to pick up the loosened pieces and put them into the container.

The three were now seating in the back of the taxi silently.

"But how did he get past the CCTV? If all the doors were locked ..."

Scarlett cut him off, "He walked in when they weren't locked."

"But a stranger can't just walk into a school like that."

Sherlock shook his head, "Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment. Yesterday – end of term, parents milling around, chauffeurs, staff. What's one stranger among that lot? He was waiting for them. All he had to do was find a place to hide."

John nods with agreement then stops, "How do you know this?"

Sherlock looked away from him, "Used to do it when I was trying to help Scarlett escapes from school," he admitted.

John nods again, "That makes more sense."

"Come on we need to go to St. Bart," said Sherlock told them.

"Like right now?" Scarlett asked looking disappointed.

"Of course!" Sherlock informed hers.

"But I have tea with Kate, Charles, Harry, and her majesty," she whispers hoping the cabbie didn't hear her.

"What? Now?" Sherlock raised his voice.

Scarlett nods her head, "I haven't seen them for a while," she explained to him.

John raises his hand, "Hold on, did you just say you're having tea with the royal family?" John raised a brow.

Scarlett rolls her eyes, "Have you already forgotten about Uncle's position?"

John stops for a moment to think and realized Scarlett was right.

"Two kidnap children, we only have prints of footsteps as our clues, and you want to go have tea with the royal family?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.

Scarlett gave him an apology look, "I know… but please daddy?" Scarlett pleads.

Sherlock sigh and looks away, "Sure, go spend time with them then your own father," said Sherlock sounding offended.


	15. The Fall part 5

In St. Bart, Molly Hooper walks along a corridor, pulling her coat on. Just as she reaches the fire doors at the end of the corridor, Sherlock and John walk through them.

"Molly!"

"Oh, hello! I'm just going out," said Molly as she was ready to walk out."

Sherlock put his hands onto her shoulders and turns her back the way she just came, "No you're not."

"I've got a lunch date."

Sherlock put his hand on her back to start her walking again, "Cancel it. You're having lunch with me."

Reaching into his coat pockets, he dramatically produces a bag of Quavers crisps from each pocket.

Molly stood there looking surprised, "What?"

Sherlock put the crisps back in his pocket, "Need your help. It's one of your old boyfriends – we're trying to track him down. He's been a bit naughty!" said Sherlock as he reach the fire doors at the other end of the corridor, he turns and smiles back at Molly, who has stopped dead a few paces back. John also stops and stares at him.

"It's Moriarty?" John asked.

Sherlock roll his eyes at him, "Course its Moriarty."

"Er, Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it," Molly explained to them looking nervous.

"Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England and organized a prison break at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly," said Sherlock as he pulls out and brandishes the Quavers at her again, and then continues on through the fire door. She stares after him in utter bewilderment.

Sherlock's phone went off, he dig out his phone and open his inbox.

**Molly is going on a lunch date, don't you dare try to ruin it! SEH**

Sherlock smirks when he read the message and he press the deleted button.

While walking to the lab, Molly's phone also went off she dig up for her phone she was hoping it wasn't her lunch date, she sigh relief when she realize the text is from Scarlett.

**Whatever you do don't let my dad cancel your date. SEH**

Molly stares at the phone nervously; she pressed the delete button and follows the two boys.

Shortly afterwards, wearing her lab coat, she pushes her way through the door into Sherlock's favorite lab weighed down by the huge pile of books and files she is carrying. As she staggers into the room, Sherlock is sitting at the bench in front of a microscope. John is standing at the other side of the bench.

"Oil, John," said Sherlock as he opens the plastic Petri dish and takes out one of the samples with tweezers.

"The oil in the kidnapper's footprint – it'll lead us to Moriarty. All the chemical traces on his shoe have been preserved. The sole of the shoe is like a passport. If we're lucky we can see everything that he's been up to. "

He looks at the slide under the microscope. Time passes and we see brief extracts of the work that he and Molly are doing.

"I need that analysis," Sherlock demanded.

Molly squeezes some liquid into a glass dish and applies some Litmus paper to it. The paper turns blue.

"Analysis," Molly uttered.

"Thank you, John."

"Molly," she corrected him.

"Yes."

She turns away unhappily. Sherlock has found the first component in the mixture of items and makes a note of it:

1. Chalk

He takes another sample and dissolves it. The results reveal another item:

2. Asphalt

Dissolving another sample into a dish:

3. Brick Dust

And another sample dissolved and heated over a Bunsen burner:

4. Vegetation

Later, he has another sample on a slide and is looking at it in the microscope. He quietly murmurs to himself, "I O U."

He turns his head and looks at a computer screen nearby, "Glycerol molecule."

He sighs heavily as he struggles to identify the item. He looks into the microscope again as Molly stands beside him typing onto a laptop.

"What did you mean, "I owe you"?"

"You said, "I owe you". You were muttering it while you were working," Molly points out.

"Nothing. Mental note," said Sherlock as he look through his microscope.

"So where is Scarlett?" Molly asked.

"Having tea with the royal family," he uttered.

Molly started to laugh, "That's really funny Sherlock."

Sherlock looks at her with a stern face, when she looks at Sherlock again she realized he was being serious, "You weren't joking?"

Sherlock roll his eyes and went back looking through his microscope.

Molly continues to look at him, "You're a bit like my dad. He's dead," she closed her eyes, embarrassed.

"No, sorry."

"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It's really not your area."

Molly cringes but continues, "When he was ... dying, he was always cheerful; he was lovely – except when he thought no-one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad."

"Molly…" he warned.

"You look sad ... when you think they can't see you."

Sherlock's eyes lift from the microscope and drift towards John who is looking through papers on the other side of the lab some distance away, unaware of the conversation. Sherlock turns his head and looks at Molly.

"Right now you're sad because Scarlett choose to be with them not you."

Sherlock open his mouth to argue back but Molly interrupts him.

"When was the last time you ever said you love her?" she asked.

Sherlock stops for a moment to think, for the first time in his life he had realize not even once he has ever said those three words to Scarlett.

"I know you're trying so hard not to show it to her, but someday you're going to be gone and you would have wished you would have said those words to her."

Molly looks up at Sherlock who was still looking at her; Molly takes a deep breath and continues, "Are you okay?"

He opens his mouth but she interrupts before he can speak again, "And don't just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no-one can see you."

"But you can see me."

Molly gave him a weak smile, "I don't count."

Sherlock blinks and really looks at her as if he saw her the first time.

"What I'm trying to say is that, if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me," she flinch and looks away.

"No, I just mean ... I mean if there's anything you need ... It's fine."

"What-what-what could I need from you?" Sherlock asked.

Molly shrugs, "Nothing. I dunno. You could probably say thank you, actually."

She nods nervously but firmly. The side of Sherlock's mouth twitches as if it doesn't know how to say the words.

"Thank you," he said awkwardly.

He frowns and turns his head away as if surprised that he has said it. Molly starts to walk towards the door.

"I'm just gonna go and get some crisps. Do you want anything?"

But before Sherlock could answer she cut him off, "It's okay, I know you don't."

"Well, actually, maybe I'll ..."

"I know you don't."

She turns and walks out of the lab leaving Sherlock confused.

On the other side of the lab, ignorant of the conversation that has just taken place, John is looking through police photographs taken at the school. He finds one of the inside of the wooden trunk which shows the envelope with the wax seal, and another with a close-up of the seal.

"Sherlock."

"Mmm?"

"This envelope that was in her trunk. There's another one," said John as he walks to his Jacket.

"What?"

"On our doorstep. Found it today," John gets the envelope out of his pocket and looks at it, "Yes, look at that."

He brings the envelope round the bench and gives it to Sherlock.

"Look at that. Exactly the same seal."

Sherlock reaches into the envelope and takes out some of the brown dust which we now see more clearly, "Breadcrumbs."

John nods, "Uh-huh. It was there when I got back."

"A little trace of breadcrumbs; hardback copy of fairy tales," his eyes widen, "Two children led into the forest by a wicked father follow a little trail of breadcrumbs."

"That's "Hansel and Gretel." What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?" John raised a brow.

"He sort that likes to boast; the sort that thinks it's all a game. He sat in our flat and he said these exact words to me ... All fairytales need a good old-fashioned villain."

Sherlock puts the envelope down and adjusts his microscope before starting to look into it again.

"The fifth substance: it's part of the tale. The witch's house."

"What?" John asked still looking at Sherlock with confusion.

"The glycerol molecule. PGPR!" Sherlock yells with frustration.

"What is that?"

Sherlock got up from his seat, "It's used in making chocolate."

Sherlock put on his coat and walks out of the lab, while John follows behind him.

"I'm a bit surprised that you know that tale."

Sherlock roll his eyes, "Everyone knows that tale."

John raised a brow with disbelief, "Sherlock Holmes the Great Consultant Detective knows the story of Hansel and Gretel?"

Sherlock looks away, "It was one of Scarlett's favorite's when she was little so she made me read to her all the time, except we change the story that the witch actually ate Hansel."

John chuckles, "That actually makes more sense now."

Greg hands a sheet of paper to Sherlock as he leads him and John into the department's main office, "This fax arrived an hour ago."

Sherlock reads the note and it says:

**HURRY UP**

**THEY'RE**

**DYING!**

"What have you got for us?" Lestrade asked.

"Need to find a place in the city where all five of these things intersect," Sherlock demanded as he hand his list to Lestrade.

"Chalk, asphalt, brick dust, vegetation ... What the hell is this? Chocolate?" yelled Lestrade.

"I think we're looking for a disused sweet factory," Sherlock points out.

"We need to narrow that down. A sweet factory with asphalt?"

"No. No-no-no. Too general. Need something more specific. Chalk; chalky clay – that's a far thinner band of geology."

"Brick dust?" Lestrade yells.

"Building site. Bricks from the nineteen fifties."

Lestrade rub his face with despair, "There's thousands of building sites in London."

Sherlock looks exasperated at the distraction, "I've got people out looking."

"So have I."

"Homeless network faster than the police. Far more relaxed about taking bribes," Sherlock smiles snidely.

Sherlock's phone went off, followed by several more alerts. He wields his phone proudly at Greg as the messages continue to pour in. Smiling smugly, he lifts the phone up high and calls up his mental London map in front of him, flicking his eyes across to the phone to look at each photograph. One photo caught his eye it was a picture of a purple flower.

"John!" Sherlock yells for him.

Sherlock shows him the picture, "Rhododendron ponticum. It matches."

John nods with him. After going through his mind palace he remembered where the flowers grow.

"Addlestone."

But Sherlock was not the only person who said this. Everyone turns around and saw Scarlett leaning against the door smiling at them.

"How did you find out?" Sherlock asked furious that he was not the only one who solves this.

Scarlett roll her eyes, "I think you have forgotten the homeless network always give me the information that you want first."

"How much did you pay them?" Sherlock whispers to her.

She gave him a smirk, "Twice as more you did."

"Sorry to break the bubble but why Addleston?" Lestrade interrupts them.

"There's a mile of disused factories between the river and the park. It matches everything," Sherlock explains to them.

He turns and hurries out of the office with John and Scarlett in broiling hunt. Greg turns to his team, "Right, come on."

While walking down the halls Sherlock glace at Scarlett, "You came."

Scarlett scoffs, "Of course, two children get kidnaps and turning this to my favorite tale! I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

Sherlock smirk, "Thank you," he uttered.

"What?" Scarlett looks up at him.

Sherlock shook his head, "Nothing."

Scarlett grabbed his head and smiles up at him, "Come on dad! Let's go solve this game!"


	16. The Fall part 6

Several police cars race to a disused factory and the police officers, together with Sherlock, Scarlett, and John, run inside the dark building. Everyone switches on flashlights and Sally coordinates the police as they start to search in all directions.

"You, look over there. Look everywhere. Okay, spread out, please. Spread out!" Donovan yells at them.

Greg leads another team, including Sherlock, Scarlett, and John, into another part of the factory. Greg directs his officers.

"Look in there. Quietly," Lestrade said softly.

As they make their way deeper into the factory, Sherlock and Scarlett finds a large number of empty sweet wrappers scattered on the floor around a candle on a plate. Sherlock touches the wick of the candle.

"This was a light moment ago," Scarlett points out.

"They're still here!" Sherlock calls out loud.

"Sweet wrappers. What's he been feeding you?" Sherlock picks up one of the wrappers and looks at it more closely.

"Hansel and Gretel," Scarlett whispers to him.

He holds the wrapper closer to the beam of his flashlight and sniffs the paper before touching the tip of his tongue to it and grimacing at the taste. He looks at the wrapper in startled realization of what he has just tasted.

"Mercury," Sherlock uttered.

"What?" Lestrade yells.

"The papers: they're painted with mercury!" Scarlett responsed.

"Lethal. The more of the stuff they ate ..."

But John cut him off, "It was killing them."

Sherlock shook his head, "But it's not enough to kill them on its own. Taken in large enough quantities, eventually it would kill them."

"He didn't need to be there for the execution. Murder by remote control. He could be a thousand miles away," said Scarlett.

"The hungrier they got, the more they ate ... the faster they died," Sherlock said softly and then he grins.

"Neat," Sherlock and Scarlett said the same time.

John sigh heavily, "Sherlock… Scarlett."

"Over here!" Donovan calls out.

Everyone runs in the direction of her voice. Sally and other officers reach down to the children.

Sherlock is pacing outside an office while John and Scarlett sit nearby. The door to the office opens and Sally and Greg come out.

"Right, then. The professionals have finished. If the amateurs wanna go in and have their turn," said Donovan sarcastically.

John and Scarlett stand up and walk over to the others. Greg looks seriously at Sherlock, "Now, remember, she's in shock and she's just seven years old, so anything you can do to ..."

"Not be myself," Sherlock finish the sentence for him.

"Yeah. Might be helpful."

Sherlock looks round to John and Scarlett, doing everything but roll his eyes, reaches up and pops the collar of his coat, folding it down flat before leading John and the others into the office. The little girl is sitting at a table looking down into her lap. A female liaison officer is sitting beside her stroking her arm reassuringly.

"Claudette, I ..."

Before Sherlock could talk more the girl lifts her head, takes one look at him and begins to scream in terror.

"No-no, I know it's been hard for you," Sherlock tries to calm her down.

She continues screaming and scrambles to get away while pointing at him.

"Claudette, listen to me ..."

"Out. Get out!" Lestrade yells at him as he grabs his arm, he bundles Sherlock out of the room as the girl's screams continue.

Shortly afterwards, Sherlock is standing at the window of another office looking out into the night through the slats of the blinds. Sally stands at the other side of the office watching him thoughtfully.

"Makes no sense," John uttered.

Scarlett shook her head, "It really doesn't."

"The kid's traumatized. Something about Sherlock reminds her of the kidnapper," Lestrade explains to them.

"So what's she said?" John asked.

"Hasn't uttered another syllable," said Donovan.

"And the boy?" Scarlett raised a brow.

Lestrade shook his head, "No, he's unconscious; still in intensive care."

Scarlett turns to her dad who was still looking out of the window. Scarlett walks up to him slowly and grabs his arm, "Are you alright?"

Sherlock nods his head without gazing at her, "Yeah."

"Well, don't let it get to you. I always feel like screaming when you walk into a room! In fact, so do most people," Lestrade joked.

"Come on," said Lestrade as he and John leaves the room. Donovan stays behind as Sherlock turns away from the window and walks towards the door while Scarlett follows behind her dad.

"Brilliant work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It's really amazing," Donovan smiles at him.

"Thank you."

"Unbelievable," Donovan said pointy.

Sherlock hesitates momentarily, and then continues on. Scarlett stops and glares at Donovan.

"Do you have a problem about my dad?"

Donovan nods her head, "A lot sweetheart."

Scarlett cross her arms around her chest and continues to glare at Donovan.

"I know what you're thinking Donovan and I want you to know my dad has nothing to do with this."

Before Donovan could open her mouth to argue, Sherlock yells for his daughter.

"Scarlett, hurry up!"

"Coming!" She yells back.

She looks at Donovan again, "If something happens to my dad I will blame everything on you," Scarlett warns her, she turns around, and runs to her father while Donovan watches her go with a thoughtful expression.

Outside shortly afterwards, John waits for Sherlock and Scarlett to join him and then looks down the street. He raises his hand to hail the approaching taxi. As the three walk to the edge of the curb, John looks round to Sherlock.

"You okay?" John asked.

"Thinking."

A taxi pulls up a curb, before John could open the door Sherlock stops him, "This is my cab. You and Scarlett get the next one."

Both Scarlett and John look at him with confusion.

"What?"

Why?"

"You two might talk."

He gets in and closes the door and the taxi pulls away. John and Scarlett stares after him in disbelief, then John sighs.

"What's wrong with him?" John asked as he looks at Scarlett.

Scarlett shrugs, "A bit obvious isn't it?"

John nods his head, "Yeah… Obvious."

While seating on the back seat of the taxi, Scarlett gazed at the window while John looks at her with concern.

"Are you alright?" John asked.

Scarlett nods her head, "Thinking."

John shook his head with disbelief, "Can you try not to act like your dad for a moment?"

Scarlett turns her head to look at him, "What is it you want to know?"

"What happened before you and your dad walked out?" John asked.

John looks at Scarlett who was now playing with her hands, "Donovan thinks dad has something to do with the kidnapped children."

John's eyes went wide, "You got to be kidding."

Scarlett shook her head, "I wish John."

When they turned around the corner they saw Sherlock standing on the sidewalk while a dead man lying on the ground.

"What the hell?" John hollered.

"Stop here!" Scarlett yells at the cabbie.

The Cabbie stops the cab and both John and Sherlock jump out of the cab and hurries toward them.

"Sherlock!"

"Dad!"

Sometime later Sherlock stands twitching his fingers fretfully as an ambulance crew wheels Sulejmani's body away.

"That ... it's him. It's him. Sulejmani or something. Mycroft showed me his file. He's a big Albanian gangster lives two doors down from us," John points out sounding a bit frighten.

"He died because I shook his hand," Sherlock uttered.

Scarlett raised a brow, "What do you mean?"

"He saved my life but he couldn't touch me. Why?" said Sherlock as he storms out while John and Scarlett follow him.

When they arrived their flat Sherlock walks rapidly into the living room, pulling his scarf and then his coat off as he goes across to the laptop on the table.

"Four assassins living right on our doorstep, they didn't come here to kill me; they have to keep me alive."

"Why are they trying to keep you alive?" Scarlett questioned him.

"I've got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches me ..."

"... the others kill them before they can get it." John finished for him.

Sherlock grunts in agreement and types rapidly on the laptop, calling up a list of local Wi-Fi networks. There are five of them and he checks their signal strength and the names of the networks.

"All of the attention is focused on me. There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now."

"So what have you got that's so important?"

Sherlock gazes into the distance and thinks for a moment, then runs his finger along the table beside the computer before lifting it and looking at his fingertip.

"We need to ask about the dusting."

Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Hudson has been dragged upstairs in her nightdress and dressing gown. Sherlock is hurrying around the room checking for dust on all the furniture.

"Precise details in the last week, what's been cleaned?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, Tuesday I did your lino ..." but Sherlock cut her off.

"No, in here, this room. This is where we'll find it – any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust."

He lifts his hand from the latest piece of furniture that he has been running his finger along, and twirls his finger dramatically in the air, "Dust is eloquent."

Mrs. Hudson looks over her shoulder at John and Scarlett.

"What's he on about?" Mrs. Hudson, whisper to them not wanting Sherlock to hear her.

John shakes his head and mumbles while Scarlett smiles at them.

"I'm guessing Scarlett is the only person in this room that knows what's going on," John said sarcastically.

Scarlett nods her head, "Cameras. We're being watched."

"What? Cameras? Here? I'm in my nightie!" Mrs. Hudson cringes.

The doorbell has just rung and she hurries out of the room, John following her. Sherlock has climbed down and now checks in the eye sockets of the skull on the mantelpiece before climbing onto small tables on the other side of the fireplace to look at the bookshelves there. Checking the books on the top shelf, he seems to realize that the one on the far right has more movement around it than it ought and he pushes it deeper into the shelf, revealing a camera stuck on the side of the bookshelf.

"Is that it?" Scarlett asked.

Sherlock nods his head, "Yes."

As he reaches up to remove it, Greg comes into the room followed by John.

"No, Inspector," said Sherlock without turning around, still concentrating on removing the camera.

"What?"

"The answer's no," said Sherlock as he steps down still holding the camera on his fingers.

"But you haven't heard the question!" Lestrade protests.

"You want to take me to the station, just saving you the trouble of asking."

He walks closer. Greg pulls in a breath, "Sherlock ..."

"The scream?"

Lestrade nods his head, "Yeah."

"Who was it? Donovan? I bet it was Donovan. Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Ah, Moriarty is smart. He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You're gonna have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home…" he reaches forward and briefly places his index fingertip on Greg's forehead between his eyes, "... there."

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked sounding annoyed.

Turning away, sitting down at the laptop, "Scarlett, I need you open the program." He demands.

Scarlett nods as she took the laptop away from him and started typing.

"One photograph – that's his next move. Moriarty's game: first the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch."

"Here you go," said Scarlett as she hands the laptop to him. Sherlock picks up the camera again; he looks at it for a moment, and then raises his eyes to Greg's.

"It is a game, Lestrade, and not one I'm willing to play."

"Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan," said Sherlock as he looks away.

Sighing and exchanging a brief look with John and Scarlett, Greg turns and heads off down the stairs. John watches him go, then turns back towards Sherlock possibly with the same expression, who has now linked the camera into the computer so that he can pull up the footage on the computer screen. John goes over to the window and looks out at the car parked outside as Greg and Sally go over to it and get in. Scarlett sits on Sherlock's armchair looking at her father with concern.

"They'll be deciding," Sherlock uttered.

"Deciding?"

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest him," said Scarlett as she glares at the window.

"You think?"

"Standard procedure," said Sherlock as he starts typing.

"Should have gone with him. People will think ..."

"I don't care what people think," Sherlock interrupts him.

Scarlett smirk, "You'd care if they thought you were stupid, or wrong."

Sherlock shook his head, "No, that would just make them stupid or wrong."

John turns towards Sherlock angrily, "Sherlock, I don't want the world believing you're ..."

He breaks off as Sherlock lifts his head to look at him while Scarlett stares at the two with intense. Sherlock and John lock eyes for a long moment.

"That I am what?"

"A fraud," John says calmly.

Sherlock rolls his eyes and sits back in the seat, "You're worried they're right."

"What?"

"You're worried they're right about me."

John shook his head, "No."

"That's why you're so upset. You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."

"No, I'm not," said John as he turns away and look out of the window again.

Sherlock leans forward, "Moriarty is playing with your mind too. Can't you see what's going on?" Sherlock yells furiously as he slams his hand onto the table. Scarlett jumps with fright while John looks at him calmly. John turns his head again and utters, "I know you for real."

"A hundred percent?" Sherlock asked without gazing up at him.

"Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time."

Scarlett laughs, "So true."

Sherlock locks eyes with him again, and then his mouth twitches with the trace of a smile. John looks at Scarlett, "You should go to bed."

Scarlett shook her head, "No, I want to stay with dad," she looks at her dad who was smiling at her.

John nods his head, "Alright."


	17. The Fall part 7

Shortly afterwards, John, standing in the center of the living room at 221B, lowers his own phone from his ear and switches it off. He turns to Sherlock who is now sitting in his armchair.

"So, still got some friends on the Force, It's Lestrade, says they're all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap on the handcuffs, every single officer you ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people."

Sherlock appears to be taking no notice of him, and now Mrs. Hudson knocks on the closed living room door, "Ooh-ooh!" and then comes in. She apparently feels the tension in the room.

"Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?" Mrs. Hudson asked while Sherlock roll his eyes.

Scarlett shook her head, "It's alright Mrs. Hudson."

"Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Marked 'Perishable' – I had to sign for it."

John takes the envelope from her and immediately realizes that there's a wax seal over the flap. Sherlock looks across and also sees the seal.

"Funny name, German, like the fairytales."

Scarlett and Sherlock rises to his feet and walks forward, his gaze intense and locked on the envelope as John opens it and pulls out the contents. Outside, the sirens of several different vehicles are approaching. Scarlett glance at the object the gingerbread man in John's hand as she looks out at the window.

John tilts it so that Sherlock can see it better.

"Burnt to a crisp," Sherlock utters as he looks at the burn gingerbread man.

Scarlett ignores her father as she continues to look outside. The sirens stop as the vehicles pull up outside, and doors start to slam as people get out of the cars.

"They're here," she whispers.

"What does it mean?" John asked ignoring Scarlett's statement.

The doorbell rings and at the same time someone pounds on the front door knocker.

"I'll go get that," Mrs. Hudson informed them as she went downstairs to open the door.

"Sherlock!" Donovan yells for him.

"Evening, Mrs. Hudson," said Lestrade as he tries to break the tension.

While Mrs. Hudson was yelling at Donovan, Calmly Sherlock turns around and picks up his scarf and loops it around his neck. John is apparently blocking the stairs halfway up. Sherlock grabs Scarlett's hand and dragged her to his room. When Sherlock locked the door everything became silence.

"What are we going to do?" Scarlett asked looking scared.

Sherlock looks at Scarlett with intense, "Scarlett, I need you to do something for me."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to stay here and get all the information you can get."

Scarlett looks at him with confusion, "You're going to let them take you away?"

Sherlock nods, "Scarlett, I need you to do this."

Scarlett shook her head, "Dad, you don't have to do this."

Sherlock shook his head, "Scarlett, I need to end this game."

"And you want Moriarty see you take away?" Scarlett raises her voice.

"Scarlett, I need you to do this."

Scarlett shook her head as tears streaming down her face, "I can't."

"Scarlett…"

"I don't want them to take you away!" she yells at him.

Sherlock walks towards her as he placed his hands on her cheeks, "Scarlett, listen to me… listen to me."

Scarlett shook her head and continuous to cry, "No."

"I want you to get the homeless network get any information about Moriarty and try to find out what the other's want."

"I hate this!" she yells at him, "I can't take it anymore!"

"Ssh," he sooth her as he brush out the hair out of her face, he could see her eyes more clear now they were now green, just like Jennalie's, and this was the last thing he wanted to see before he leaves.

"Scarlett, I need you to this. If we know what Moriarty is up to we can end this."

She looks at him, "You promise?" she whispers.

He kisses her forehead and smiles at her, "I promise."

She nods her head as she tries to wipe the tear.

"Can I?" she asked as she raises her arms to hug him.

Sherlock roll his eyes, "You know it's not like I'm not going to see you again."

Scarlett chuckled, "I know but just in case."

Sherlock sigh heavily and let her hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her face rest on his shoulder. He stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do, he could tell she was still crying so he sooth her black curly hair.

"Sherlock!" Donovan knocked on his door.

Sherlock lets go of Scarlett and looks down at her, "I got to go."

Scarlett nods her head, "I know."

Shortly afterwards Greg stands in front of him and reads him his rights while one of two armed officers attaches handcuffs to his left wrist.

"Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping."

John gestures towards Sherlock while looking at Greg as the officer pulls Sherlock's left hand behind his back in order to cuff his other wrist, "He's not resisting."

"It's all right, John," Sherlock told him calmly.

"He's not resisting. No, it's not all right. This is ridiculous!" Scarlett yells at Lestrade and the rest of the officers.

Sherlock looks at Scarlett, "Scarlett, behave." He warns her.

Scarlett glares at him for a moment and nods, "Alright."

Lestrade sigh, "Get him downstairs."

The officer spins Sherlock around and marches him out of the door. Mrs. Hudson hugs Scarlett behind, both in tears.

John looks at Lestrade, "You know you don't have to do ..."

Lestrade glares at him and points at him sternly, "Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too."

He turns and leaves the room. John turns to Donovan who is standing near the door the whole time.

"You done?" he asked her.

Donovan shrugs, "Oh, I said it. First time we met."

John shook his head, "Don't bother."

"'Solving crimes won't be enough. One day he'll cross the line.' Now, ask yourself, what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he can impress us all by finding them?"

When Scarlett heard those words she lets go of Mrs. Hudson grasp and heads towards to Donovan, "What do you think you bitch?" Scarlett shoves Donovan on the wall and they were now facing at each other.

"You know I can arrest you to for attacking a police officer," Donovan warns her.

Scarlett chuckles, "You think that's going to stop me? I have the entire royal family in my side. Now tell me Donovan who's talking big now?"

Donovan push Scarlett away, "Shut up you freak!"

Scarlett continues to laugh, "Oh, now my dad is being arrest you're picking on me?"

Before Donovan could argue more an old man walks into the room, "Donovan."

"Sir," said Donovan as she straightens up.

"Got our man?" he asked.

"Er, yes, sir."

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me."

Scarlett glares at the old man and was taking a step forward. John knew what she was going to do so he grabs her arm to stop her and looks at the old man.

"Often are, these vigilante types," said the old man as he looks around the flat, then he realized both Scarlett and John were glaring at him.

"What are you looking at?"

John slowly moves his arms while Scarlett smirks.

A minute or two later, the Chief Superintendent walks out onto the street holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose. Nearby, Sherlock has been leaned against the side of a police car, facing it. Now John is slammed up against the car next to him and to his left. Sherlock looks across to him with an amused expression on his face.

"Joining me?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, apparently it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent."

Behind them, a couple of armed officers unlock the cuff on Sherlock's right hand and transfer it to John's right wrist, chaining the boys together. Sherlock looks over his shoulder, watching what the officers are doing and where they're standing. He then looked at Scarlett who was now standing on the front doorway, trying her best to look strong by smiling at him, but he could tell the entire thing sickens her.

"Hmm. Bit awkward, this," Sherlock tells him.

"Huh. No-one to bail us."

"I was thinking more about our imminent and daring escape."

Sherlock looks down at the radio lying on the dashboard of the car they're leaning against, while John looks confused about Sherlock's previous statement, "What?"

Rapidly Sherlock reaches through the open window of the car with his free hand and presses down on the button. Instantly the officer behind the boys doubles over in pain and grabs at his earpiece as a high-pitched squeal of feedback rips through it. Sherlock reaches behind him and pulls the officer's pistol free, instantly raising it. As it's in his left hand, John's shackled right hand is yanked upwards as well and he gasps in surprise at the rapid turn of events. Sherlock calls out as he aims the pistol towards the nearest officers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, will you all please get on your knees?"

When nobody reacts very quickly, Sherlock raises the gun skywards and fires it twice.

"NOW would be good!"

"Do as he says!" Lestrade yells at everyone as he gestures everybody downwards and all the police start to kneel.

"Just-just so you're aware, the gun is his idea. I'm just a ... you know ..." said John trying to find the right word to say.

Sherlock transfers the pistol to his right hand and promptly aims it at John's head

"My hostage," Sherlock says loudly.

"Hostage! Yes, that works," John said to Sherlock quietly.

"So what now?"

"Doing what Moriarty wants, I'm becoming a fugitive. Run!" He turns and begins to race off down the road, dragging John with him. Back at the police cars, Greg buries his head in his hands. The Chief Superintendent gets to his feet and turns to him.

"Get after him, Lestrade!"

Greg glares furiously at Sally as she begins to head in the direction the boys have gone. Greg is a lot slower in getting moving.

Scarlett watches the two men running for their lives, she starts to laugh realizing it that this was her dad's plan all along.

Donovan comes up to her, "Scarlett Holmes, come with me."

Scarlett raised a brow, "What for?"

Donovan gives her an evil smile, "Questioning."

"What if I don't want to?"

Donovan shrugs, "You'll be arrested for involving your father's escape."

Scarlett scoffs, "Really? That's the best you got?"

Donovan shook her head, "You'll also be arrested on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping."

Scarlett glares at her for a moment; she walks towards the police car and got in.

"For the last time, tell us where they are!" Donovan yells at Scarlett.

Scarlett found herself in an old grey cell, she rest her arms on the desk and shrugs "Are you deaf? I told you I have no clue."

Donovan shook her head, "I don't believe you."

Scarlett leans close to her, "Nor do I."

"Okay, let me ask you this question, did you and your father kidnap the two children?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes, "Seriously?"

"Yes or No?"

"Of course not!" Scarlett hollered.

"Then why did the little girl screamed when she saw your father?" Donovan questions her.

"Are you really that stupid?"

Donovan glares at her and cross her arms on her chest.

"It is easy to manipulate a seven year old. The kidnapper might have shown pictures to the kids telling them that he was an evil man or the kidnapper dress like my father."

Donovan still looks at her with disbelief, "How could you father found where they were hiding from footsteps?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes, "It's a thing we use called science."

Before Donovan could ask anymore question the door to the cell was open.

"What is it Carl?" Donovan asked harshly.

"Umm, Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge asks to release Ms. Scarlett Holmes."

Donovan scoff, "Kate Middleton?"

Carl nods and behind him was Kate Middleton, her hair was loose curl, wearing a red jacket, and was holding her black purse.

Donovan got up from her seat and bowed down, "Your highness!"

Kate smiles, "I came here to pick up Scarlett."

Scarlett got up from her seat, "It's nice to see you again Kate."

"Nice to see you too, should we get you home?"

Scarlett nods and gave an evil smile to Donovan, "Bye!"

While walking out of Scotland Yard Scarlett sigh, "Thank you so much Kate."

Kate shook her head, "You should thank her majesty when she heard what happen to your father, she wanted me to check on you."

"But you realized I wasn't home so Lestrade told you I was sent to Scotland Yard for questioning."

Kate nods her head, "Like always Scarlett you get things right."

Scarlett chuckles, "Not all the time."

When they walked out of Scotland Yard Scarlett hails for a taxi.

"I can give you a lift," Kate reminded her.

Scarlett shook her head, "My dad left me some business to do, I need to do some research."

"Alright, make sure you text me when you arrive home safely."

Scarlett nods, "I will."

Kate quickly walks into the limo and she was out of sight. A taxi finally stops for Scarlett; she opens the door and got in.

"Where to ma'am?" the Cabbie asked.

"221B Baker Street please!"

** Please review**


	18. The Fall part 8

**GiraffePanda2: I'm glad you love the story and I hope you'll like this chapter :)**

**Please review and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

Mycroft walks across one of the common rooms, where an old man is fast asleep in an armchair, and goes into the smaller private room, reaching for the door handle to close it, but he stops as he realizes that John is sitting in one of the armchairs with his back to him. John is still looking through Kitty's file.

"She has really done her homework, Miss Riley, things that only someone close to Sherlock could know."

"Ah," said Mycroft as he close the door.

"Have you seen your brother's address book lately? Three names: yours, Scarlett and mine, and Moriarty didn't get this stuff from me or Scarlett. And the only person who knows Jennalie well is either you or Sherlock."

Mycroft walks across the room to face him, "John."

"So how does it work, then, your relationship? Did you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and Jim?" John asked.

Mycroft sits down in the chair opposite and opens his mouth but John interrupts again. His voice is full of anger, "Your own brother and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac."

"I never intent... I never dreamt ..."

But John interrupts him again, "So this ...th-th-this ... is what you were trying to tell me, isn't it: 'Watch his back, 'cause I've made a mistake.'"

He slaps the papers down on the table beside his chair and sits back, clearing his throat as he tries to stay calm, "How did you meet him?"

Mycroft took a long breathe, "People like him: we know about them; we watch them. But James Moriarty ... the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, and in his pockets the ultimate weapon: a key code. A few lines of computer code that could unlock any door."

"And you abducted him to try and find the key code?"

"Interrogated him for weeks."

"And?"

"He wouldn't play along. He just sat there, staring into the darkness. The only thing that made him open up ... I could get him to talk ... just a little, but ..."

He trails off. John grimly finishes the sentence for him, "... in return you had to offer him Sherlock's life story. So one big lie, Sherlock's a fraud, but people will swallow it because the rest of it's true."

John leans forward to his chair, "Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? And you have given him the perfect ammunition."

He smiles bitterly at him. Mycroft lowers his eyes.

"You have also made Scarlett's life dangerous. You have given Moriarty all the information about her and her mother and this information will make him weak. And that's not all, right now Scarlett scared, scared that she's going to lose her father also."

John pulls in a sharp breath and then gets to his feet, turning towards the door.

"John…" but John turns back. Mycroft looks up at him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Oh, please ..." He shakes his head in disbelief and turns away, laughing humorlessly as he walks to the door.

"Tell him, would you?"

John opens the door and walks away, leaving the door open behind him.

In Bart's lab Sherlock sits alone on the floor with his back against the bench. He is bouncing a small rubber ball off the floor and cupboard in front of him and catching it before repeating the movement constantly. John comes in.

"Got your message," said John.

"The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it beat Moriarty at his own game," Sherlock informed him as he catches the rubber ball.

"What do you mean, 'use it'?"

"He used it to create a false identity, so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook."

"And bring back Jim Moriarty again."

Sherlock stands up, "Somewhere in 221B, somewhere, on the day of the verdict, he left it hidden."

He turns and faces the bench, putting both hands on the work surface. John walks to stand beside him, unconsciously mimicking his stance.

"What did he touch?" John asked.

"An apple. Nothing else."

"Did he write anything else?"

Sherlock shook his head, "No."

John hisses in a breath and looks away, drumming his own fingers on the bench. After a moment, he turns and walks across the lab, blowing the breath out again. Sherlock lifts the fingers of his right hand, hesitates for a moment, then begins to drum them again but now he's beating out a specific rhythm. He lifts his head as John sighs heavily, unaware of Sherlock's sharpened expression. Straightening up, Sherlock turns his back to John, takes his phone out of his pocket and begins to type a text message:

**Come and play.**

**Bart's Hospital rooftop.**

**SH**

He pauses for a moment, then add:

**PS. Got something**

**of yours you might**

**want back.**

Sending the message, he tucks his phone away into his jacket and then turns back towards the bench, his eyes full of thought.

Some hours later, dawn is breaking. Sherlock is now sitting down with his feet up on the bench. He is rapidly rolling the rubber ball from side to side across the bench, his fingers flickering rapidly over the top of the ball. John has sat on a stool at a nearby bench and has his head down on his folded arms, asleep.

Sherlock took his phone out and dials a number.

"Hello?" it was Scarlett's voice.

"Scarlett, it's me."

Scarlett sighs with relief, "Thank god you're safe. Where are you?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter now. Scarlett, I need you to do something for me."

"Okay what is it?"

Sherlock took a deep breathe, "Moriarty…"

But Scarlett cut him off, "I know he change his identity to Richard Brooke an actor. The homeless network gave me the information."

"I need you to change his identity back to Jim Moriarty," he informed her.

Scarlett chuckles, "Doing it right now actually."

"Good."

"What's the other thing you want me to do?"

Sherlock took a deep breathe, "I need you to call John that Mrs. Hudson got shot."

There was silence between them after waiting for two minutes Scarlett finally answers, "What? Are you crazy?"

Sherlock sigh, "Scarlett, I need you to do this for me."

"What for?"

"Scarlett, please!" he raised his voice but at the same time tries not to wake John up.

Scarlett sigh, "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

"Come home," she pleaded

"I'll call you later," he promised her.

"Alright, bye." Scarlett hung up the phone hoping that John could forgive her for this.

John phone rings. Lifting his head tiredly, he groans and answers the phone.

"John?" Scarlett asked trying to sound scared.

"Yeah, speaking."

"John, Mrs. Hudson got shot!" Scarlett screamed on the phone.

"Er. What?" John got up to his feet, "What happened? Is she okay?"

He could hear Scarlett sobbing, "Someone broke into the flat and they shot Mrs. Hudson and I don't know what to do John!"

"Oh my God. Right, yes, I'm coming."

He switches the phone off.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked dryly.

"Scarlett, Mrs. Hudson she's been shot!" John started to get panic.

"What? How?" Sherlock asks.

"Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract ... Jesus. Jesus. She's dying, Sherlock. Let's go," John turns toward the door.

"You go, I'm busy."

John turns back towards him, his face appalled, "Busy?"

"Thinking. I need to think."

"You need to ...? Doesn't she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her," John reminded him.

Sherlock shrugs, "She's my landlady."

"She's dying!" John yells furiously.

He flails a hand in front of himself in utter disbelief at Sherlock's attitude, "You machine! Stop this. Stop this. You stay here if you want, on your own," said John as he heads towards the door.

"Alone is what I have. Alone protects me."

John opens the door and looks back at him angrily, "No. Friends and family protect people."

He storms out of the room. Sherlock lifts his gaze towards the door. Sherlock closed his eyes and the two words were echoing his mind, "You Machine!" it was not John's voice but Jennalie's, who have said those exact words to him many years ago. A moment later his phone trills a text alert. He reaches into his pocket and looks at the message:

**I'm waiting...**

**JM**

Taking his feet off the bench and standing up, he walks across the lab buttoning his jacket. He picks up his coat, opens the door and leaves the room. On the roof of the hospital, daylight has come. Jim Moriarty calmly sits on the raised ledge at the edge of the building with his phone in his hand as "Stayin' Alive" plays from it. He doesn't look at Sherlock as he comes onto the roof and walks towards him.

"Ah. Here we are at last you and me, Sherlock, and our problem the final problem," said Moriarty as he holds the phone up higher.

"Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Angrily he turns off his phone.

"It's just ..." he holds his hand out flat with the palm down and skims it slowly through the air level to the roof, "staying."

He pulls his hand back and briefly sinks his head into it as Sherlock paces around the roof.

"All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you."

Sherlock glares at him but continuous to pace around the roof.

"And you know what? In the end it was easy."

Sherlock stops and placed his hands on his back.

Moriarty looks at him disappointed, "It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary just like all of them."

He lowers his head again and rubs his face before looking up at Sherlock, "Ah Well!"

He stands up and walks closer, then starts to pace slowly around Sherlock, "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?"

"Richard Brooke," Sherlock utters.

"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do."

"Of course."

Moriarty smiles, "Atta boy"

"Rich Brook in German is ReichenBach, the case that made my name."

"Just trying to have some fun," said Moriarty with his fake American accent.

As he continues to pace around him, he looks down to Sherlock's hands and sees that he is beating out a rhythm with his fingers.

"You got that too."

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me; hidden inside my head a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

"I told all my clients, last one to Sherlock is a sissy."

Sherlock gesture his head, "Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty."

Jim stares at him for a moment, and then turns away with a dissatisfied look on his face, "No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy," he buries his face with his hands, "This is too easy."

He lowers his hands and look at Sherlock, "There is no key, DOOFUS!"

"Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless."

Sherlock was now staring at Moriarty with confusion.

"You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed."

He turns away and lumbers across the roof, making his voice sound moronic as he continues speaking, "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock."

"But the rhythm ..."

""Partita number one." Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach!" Moriarty yells at him.

"But then how did ..."

Moriarty cut him off, "Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison? Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants. I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building – nice way to do it."

Sherlock has been staring blankly into the distance. Now he sounds bewildered as he speaks, "Do it? Do … do what?"

He blinks as it becomes clearer to him and he turns towards Moriarty, "Yes, of course. My suicide."

"'Genius detective proved to be a fraud.' I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales."

Sherlock walks to the edge of the roof and leans forward, looking over the side to the ground below. Jim walks to stand beside him and looks over the side as well, "And pretty Grimm ones too."

"I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity," Sherlock warns him.

"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort," said Moriarty looking wearily exasperated.

"Go on. For me. Pleeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaseeeeeee eeee!"

In a sudden movement, Sherlock grabs him by the collar of his coat with both hands and spins him around so that Jim's back is to the drop. He stares into his face and then shoves him back one step nearer the edge. Jim looks at him with interest as Sherlock's breathing becomes shorter, "You're insane."

"You're just getting that now?"

Sherlock shoves him further back, now holding him over the edge. Jim whoops almost triumphantly and gazes back at Sherlock with no fear in his eyes, holding his hands out wide and committing himself to Sherlock's grasp.

"Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive. Your friends will die if you don't. "

Fear begins to creep into Sherlock's eyes.

"John," he whispers.

"Not just John. Everyone."

"Mrs. Hudson.""

"Everyone," Moriarty whispers to him with delight.

"Lestrade."

"Three bullets; three gunmen; three victims. There's no stopping them now."

Sherlock took a deep breath and continues to look at Moriarty with fear, "Scarlett?"

Moriarty gave him a delight smile, "I won't kill her… for now. You wouldn't imagine the things I would do to her."

Furiously, Sherlock pulls Jim back upwards to safety. Jim stares into his face.

"Unless my people see you jump."

Sherlock gazes past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Moriarty shakes himself free of his grasp and smiles triumphantly, "You can have me arrested, you can torture me, you can do anything you like with me, but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends and daughter in the world will die ... unless ..."

"... unless I kill myself, complete your story," Sherlock finish the sentence for him.

Moriarty nods and smiles ecstatically, "You've gotta admit that's sexier."

Sherlock gaze distant, "And I die in disgrace."

Moriarty roll his eyes, "Of course. That's the point of this. Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop," said Moriarty as he looks down from the roof.

He rolls his head from side to side on his neck, "Go on."

Sherlock slowly steps past him and up onto the ledge.

"I told you how this ends. Your death is the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it." Moriarty reminds him.

"Would you give me ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy? Please? " Sherlock pleads.

Moriarty nods, "Of course."

Sherlock takes several shallow anxious breaths, and then he stops breathing for a moment as his brain kicks into gear again. He lifts his gaze as his expression and his eyes become thoughtful. Slowly a smile spreads across his face and he starts to chuckle. Behind him, Jim is slowly walking across the roof but he stops his expression livid, as Sherlock laughs with delight. Jim spins around furiously, "What? What is it? What did I miss?"

Sherlock hops down off the ledge and walks closer to him.

""You're not going to do it." So the killers can be called off, then there's a recall code or a word or a number," said Sherlock as he circles Moriarty.

"I don't have to die ... if I've got you."

Moriarty laughs with relief, "Oh! You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"

"Yes. So do you."

Moriarty roll his eyes, "Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

Sherlock stops and was now staring at Moriarty, "Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you."

Moriarty shook his head, "Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary you're on the side of the angels."

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them," said Sherlock but this time his voice was now more ominous.

"No, you're not."

"I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me," Moriarty says softly.

"You're me! Thank you!" He lifts his hand as if to embrace Sherlock, but then lowers it and offers it to him to shake instead.

"Sherlock Holmes."

They both look down at the offered hand, then Sherlock slowly raises his own and takes it.

Moriarty nodding almost frenetically, though his voice stays soft, "Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends and daughter; you've got a way out. Well, good luck with that. "

In rapid succession he raises his eyes to Sherlock's, grins manically, opens his mouth wide and pulls Sherlock closer as he reaches into his waistband with his other hand and pulls a pistol out and raises it towards his own mouth. As Sherlock instinctively pulls back, crying out in alarm, Jim sticks the muzzle into his own mouth and pulls the trigger, dropping to the roof instantly. Sherlock stares in horror as blood begins to trickle across the roof underneath Jim's head. Jim's eyes are fixed and open and there is a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spins away from him, his breathing noisy and frantic as he raises his hands to his head in horror.

He knew he had no choice.


	19. The Fall part 9

**Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you'll like this chapter. One more chapter and this story will be done. Don't worry I'm planning to write two more stories. One of the stories will be Scarlett meeting the Doctor and the other one will be three years after Sherlock's "death".**

**Please review :)**

On the rooftop, Sherlock breathes shallowly and rapidly, holding his sleeve up over his mouth in horror as he turns to look again at Jim's fixed grin. He thinks frantically for a while, and then slowly turns towards the edge of the building. His breathing begins to slow as he steps up onto the ledge, blows out another breath and looks down towards the ground. Sherlock takes out his phone and selects a speed dial.

"Hello?" Scarlett answers calmly.

"Scarlett," Sherlock says.

"Is everything alright? John freaked out when he saw Mrs. Hudson was okay."

"Yeah, everything's fine," he lied.

"Well, I also want you to know that Jim Moriarty is no longer Richard Brookes," she said with pride.

Sherlock smirk, "You've always been clever than me."

Her entire body froze, she knew something was wrong.

"When will you be coming home?" she asked.

She could hear Sherlock breathing slowly, "Maybe tonight."

"Good, because it's a bit boring around here."

There was no response, Scarlett presses the phone against her ears and could hear her father breathing deeply.

"Dad, what's wrong?" she asked with concern.

"I'm sorry, how I treated you as a child. I was wrong… you're just like your mother."

"Dad, this is not the time…."

Sherlock cut her off, "I also want you to know that I love you."

There was a dead silence between them. Scarlett was now looking out of her window; the sky was getting darker and the city moving slowly.

"I love you too," she choked up.

Sherlock chuckles, "I don't know why it took me this long to say those words to you."

Scarlett shook her head, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that."

"I'm sorry…" Sherlock trails off trying his best not to cry. He couldn't forgive himself for doing this… he didn't want to go.

"Scarlett, can you promise something for me?" he asked.

Scarlett nods her head, "Yeah, anything."

"Be strong," Sherlock said instantly.

Scarlett chuckle, "You know me."

"Goodbye Scarlett," he whispered.

"Goodbye dad."

"I will see you soon," he promised her.

"You promise?" she asked.

The line was now dead. Scarlett drops the phone on the bed and sat there for moment to think what had just happen there.

"Scarlett, you're being silly… everything is alright. Beside he said he'll be home tonight," she told herself, but she curled herself in a ball and let the tears streaming down her face and she didn't know why.

John's phone rang in his pocket as he got out of the cab, throwing money at the driver before he headed toward Bart's. He pulled it out and saw that it was Sherlock.

"Hello?"

"John," Sherlock said.

"Hey, Sherlock, you okay?" asked John as he jogs to the hospital.

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now," Sherlock demands.

"No, I'm coming in."

"Just do as I ask. Please," Sherlock yells frantically.

John looks around the street, "Where?"

"Stop there."

"Sherlock?"

"Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop."

John turns and looks up, his face filling with horror, "Oh gosh."

"I ... I ... I can't come down, so we'll ... we'll just have to do it like this," said Sherlock his voice started to become shaky.

"What's going on?" John asks anxiously.

"An apology. It's all true."

"What?"

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty," said Sherlock as he glances at the dead body of Moriarty that was still smiling at him.

John looks at him disbelief, "Why are you saying this?"

Sherlock turns back to look down at his best friend and his voice starts to break, "I'm a fake."

"Sherlock ..."

"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, Scarlett, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met ... the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?" John reminds him.

Sherlock smiles, "Nobody could be that clever."

"You could."

Sherlock laughs and gaze down at his friend. Tears were now streaming down his face, "I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It's a trick. Just a magic trick."

John starts to walk towards the hospital entrance.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move!" Sherlock yells urgently.

John stops and backs up, holding his hand up towards Sherlock in capitulation, "Alright."

Breathing rapidly, Sherlock unconsciously reaches out his own hand towards his friend, "Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?"

John looks at him with confusion, "Do what?"

"This phone call – it's, er ... it's my note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?"

"Leave a note when?"

"Take care of Scarlett for me John."

John shook his head, "No, Sherlock! You're coming down from that roof and you can take care of Scarlett."

Sherlock shook his head, "Tell her that I love her and that she was the best thing I ever had."

"I don't need to tell her Sherlock, you can come down and tell her."

"Goodbye John," Sherlock whispers.

John shook his head, "No, don't!"

Sherlock gazes down at his friend for several seconds, and then he lowers his arm and drops the phone onto the roof, gazing ahead of himself. John lowers his own phone and screams upwards, "SHERLOCK!"

Sherlock spreads his arms to both side and falls forward, plummeting towards the ground. John stares in utter horror, "Sher…."

Scarlett open her eyes slowly, to her it felt like she had been sleeping for years. She slowly got up and stretches her arms. When she got up from her bed her phone started to go off.

She slowly picked up her phone and saw that she had an inbox from John.

**Something happen to your dad.**

**Come to St. Barts now! **

**-JW**

Her eyes were widened; she put on her leather black jacket, and walked out of the flat. She raised her hand to hail a taxi, but all of them pass through her so she decided the only way to get there was on foot. She raced against time hoping that everything was going to be alright and that she could bring John and Sherlock home.

When she arrives at the hospital the press and officers were now lining up against the door of the hospital. She pushes against them so she could get to the door. She got into the hospital and tries to find her father or John. When she arrived at the dark waiting room she saw the blond hair doctor sitting alone in the dark.

"JOHN!" she yelled for him.

John glanced up and saw Scarlett running towards him.

"John, what's going on?" she asked.

When looks up at John, his face was filled with sadness, eyes were red, and his face was pale. John walks up to her slowly and wraps his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry Scarlett," he cried.

Scarlett looks at the ceiling with confusion, "John, what's wrong?"

"He's gone Scarlett… he's gone."

Her entire body was frozen; it felt like time had stopped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, her father dead… no that was not possible. She slowly backs away and looks at him with disbelief, "John, tell me that you're lying! He can't be dead!"

John shook his head as tears streaming down his face, "I'm sorry Scarlett."

"No!" Scarlett screams at him. She could feel tears streaming down her face she started punching him on the shoulder, "He's not dead John! He can't be!"

John still couldn't believe what just happen but right now he knew Scarlett needed him. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing violently and digging her nails into his back. John held his friend's daughter tightly to him and cried with her.

It had been almost been a week since the incident happened. John found himself in the back of cab staring out the streets of London like a ghost. When he finally arrives at an old church, he saw a group of people walking into the church. He recognizes some people, but most of them were people he had never met. He walks into the church and sat next to Mrs. Hudson who was now crying on her hander kerchief. While everyone was waiting for the funeral to start they heard a loud scream.

"GET OUT OF HERE!"

John turns around and saw Scarlett screaming at Donovan and Anderson. She looks completely different the last time he saw her. Her hair was tangled, eyes were red, her entire skin was pale, and John had notice some injection marks on her arms and legs.

"EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE WHERE HE IS!" she continues to scream at them. John got up from his seat and walks toward to Scarlett.

"Scarlett, that's enough," he was about to touch her shoulder, but Scarlett glanced up at him and slaps his hand, "Don't you dare touch me!"

John stunned about Scarlett's behavior, she was not the Scarlett he knew.

"Scarlett…" John responds calmly.

"YOU COULD'VE STOPPED HIM! WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP HIM?" she cried as she buries her face with her hands.

John breathes heavily, he knew she was right he could have stopped him, but he knew he couldn't change all of this.

"I'm sorry Scarlett," for that was all he could say to her.

Scarlett chuckles, "Yeah, that's what everyone tells me."

Scarlett turns her heels and sat by herself on the first row of the bench. Everyone were whispering to each other about how shock they were to see Sherlock's daughter to act this way at his funeral. But John continues to look at her with concern. He wanted to help her but he didn't know what to do for the first time John felt helpless.


	20. The Fall part 10

John looked at his calendar it has already been three months since he lost his best friend. He sighs heavily and went back to seat on his chair to drink his cup of tea. He had moved out of 221B Baker Street after the incident since the place had brought a lot of memories of his best friend.

When John was about to drink his tea he then felt his phone vibrate from his pocket.

John sighs with disappointment and took out his phone from his pocket.

"Hello?" he answers harshly.

"John, it's me Greg."

John nods his head, "Inspector."

"I was wondering if you could come down to the station."

John raised a brow, "Am I in trouble?"

"No, it's not that… I found Scarlett sleeping at the graveyard this morning."

John glanced up when he heard this he had realized he haven't heard any news from her.

"Is she alright?" John asked anxiously.

"She's alright, but we can't get hold of her uncle."

John got up from his seat, "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"See you later John."

John grabs his jacket and walks out of his flat.

John found himself in Scotland Yard in Lestrade's office. He was sitting on the wheel chair while Lestrade was sitting behind his desk.

"Glad you could come John," Lestrade smiles at him.

"Thanks for telling me really."

There was an awkward silence between them, John could tell Lestrade still feels guilty about that day but he knew it wasn't his fault, since he was the only officer who was willing to help Sherlock.

"So where did you find her again?"

Lestrade breathe heavily, "She was at his gravesite."

"So is she alright?"

Lestrade nods his head, "She's alright… but I think she needs help John."

John looks at him with confusion, "What do you mean?"

Lestrade sigh, "I think she's been using drugs."

John looks at him with shock, he knew Scarlett really well and he remembers when Scarlett told him how she was against drugs.

John shook his head, "You got to be mistaken."

Lestrade looks at him with a stern face, "I wish I was John. But the results came out positive."

John nods his head slowly and got up from his seat, "Where is she?"

"We placed her in one of the cells, but I have to warn you don't be shock when you see her," Lestrade warns him.

Lestrade and John both walk into the cell room while passing by some prisoners. When they reach the end of the hall, John notices Scarlett sleeping on the cold grey floor. He was shock when he saw Scarlett; he didn't even believe that he was seeing the same person. Her hair was messy, eyes red and puffy, her face was now pale as snow, lips were purple, and her clothes were a mess.

"Daddy…" she whispers to herself in her sleep.

"We weren't able to wake her up, so I was wondering if you could take care of her," Lestrade suggest.

John nods his head, "Yeah, sure."

Lestrade opens the cell and let John pick Scarlett up gently on his arms. He was shock how much weight she had lost, he could feel her bones poking her skin. When they walk out of Scotland Yard, Lestrade hail a taxi for them. A cab finally stops for them; Lestrade opens the door and let John and Scarlett in.

"Take care of her John," Lestrade told him.

John gave him a quick nod, "I will."

When they finally arrive Mycroft's home, John lifts Scarlett on his arms and carried her to her room. He was stunned when he walked into her room. John knew Scarlett being a clean person, but after her father's death it seems like everything has changed. There were clothes, music sheet, and garbage on the floor. John gently laid Scarlett on the bed while he cleans her room. While picking up some of her clothes he had found a pack of cocaine on the floor, the next thing he knew he found a couple packs of cigarettes, couple pounds of Cocaine, Heroin, LSD, and PCP. He nearly fell to the floor when he found the amount of drugs in her room. He looks at her closely and saw scar marks and injection marks on her arms and legs. John quietly picks up the pile of drugs and took them downstairs. At first he decided to throw away the drugs but then realized Scarlett might try to go find them, when he reach to the living room he had notice there was a fire place. He quickly places the pile of drugs in the fire place, took out a pile of matches from the kitchen, and burns the drugs to ashes. He knew Scarlett was going to kill him for this but he had promise Sherlock that he will take care of her and he had hope what he was doing was right.

Scarlett opens her eyes slowly and found herself lying on her bed. She closed her eyes to remember how she got here but all she remembered was visiting her father's gravesite. She then felt pain from her head, she got up to find some cocaine on the floor, but when she look at the floor she realized it has been cleaned and all her drugs that were on the floor were gone. She started pacing the room with anxiety, she needed those drugs no matter what, it helped her eased the pain and helps her not think about her father. She looks through inch by inch and later accepts the fact that they were gone. She wanted to cry because her body desire for them, she started hearing drum sounds, her body were now shaking, and all she wanted to do was to scream. She then smells something burning so ran out of the room and went to follow the smell. When she reaches the sitting room she found John sitting on one of the armchair while gazing at the fire. She looks at the fireplace and realizes all of her drugs were being burned.

"NO!" she screams.

She went to the fireplace trying to get some drugs out, but it was no use the fire prevent her from touching her supplies, she looks down at the floor and started to cry, "HOW COULD YOU!"

John looks at her calmly, "It's for the best Scarlett."

Scarlett chuckles, "FOR THE BEST? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THOSE DRUGS COST ME?" she yelled at him.

John nods his head, "I know."

"THEN WHY DID YOU DO THIS?"

John looks at her with a stern face, "These drugs can kill you Scarlett."

"WHAT IF I WANT TO DIE?"

John froze for a moment; he couldn't believe what he was hearing this was not the same Scarlett he knew 3 months ago. The sweet and happy Scarlett was now gone.

Scarlett went to the kitchen and took out a kitchen knife out of drawer and started cutting herself. She gave out a loud high-pitch scream. John got up from his seat quickly and ran to the kitchen.

"Scarlett, STOP IT!" he yells at her.

But she continues cutting herself, "I'll stop if you leave John!"

John shook his head, "I can't do that."

Scarlett glares at him, "Last chance John."

John grabs her hand to try to have her let go of the knife from her gasp.

"LET GO OF ME JOHN!" she screams at him.

She slices his cheeks and saw the blood streaming down his face. When Scarlett realized what she had done, her eyes were wide and her mouth was open but speechless. John slowly backs away and held to his wound. Scarlett slowly lowers the knife and it was now pointing to her stomach.

"Scarlett, No!" John took a step closer but Scarlett backs away.

"Can't you see John? I've become insane… I tried to kill you."

John shook his head, "It's okay Scarlett… give me the knife."

Scarlet shook her head as tears streaming down her cheeks, "No, I don't want to live anymore."

"Scarlett, you can't give up like this."

Scarlett looks at him with sadness, "What is there for me to live for? My parents are dead!"

John closed his eyes and breathes in slowly. He opens his eyes slowly and saw the frighten girl in front of him, "Scarlett, listen to me… I know how you feel."

"NO, YOU DON'T!"

John shook his head, "This has also been hard for me too Scarlett… no not only me for Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Lestrade."

"He was everything for me John. Without him I'm nothing," she cried.

John slowly took a step forward, "Scarlett, I know this has been hard for you, but your father wouldn't want you to do this."

"If he loves me why did he leave me?" she asked.

John shook his head, "I don't know Scarlett… but don't give up just yet. You need to be brave Scarlett for him."

After a few sobs, Scarlett drop the knife on the floor and sat on the floor while her back was leaning against the wall. John picks up the knife from the ground slowly and put it away. He looks down and saw Scarlett crying violently as she covers her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry John… I'm sorry…" she cried.

John knelt down in front of her and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up to lean against him, stroking her hair gently. "It's okay Scarlett…. It's okay."

Scarlett shook her head, "Why did he have to leave us John? Why?"

John tried his best not to cry but couldn't help himself, he too was breaking down, "I don't know Scarlett… I don't know."

Scarlett buried her face on his chest and gave out a scream and burst into tears once more, while John cried onto her shoulder.

After crying for a couple hours, John looks down and realized Scarlett had fallen asleep on his arms. He expects all the crying and stress wore her off; he grabbed a dry rag from the drawer and wipe off the blood on Scarlett's arm. After that he lifts her up and carried her to her room. When he tucked her in bed he notices Sherlock's blue bathroom was lying next to her. John holds up the blue bathrobe up to his nose and inhales the remains of Sherlock's scent; he slowly laid the bathrobe next to Scarlett. Scarlett starts to stir and buries her face on her father's bathrobe to smell his remain scent. John slowly walks out the room to leave his friend alone.

Mycroft got out of the car and sigh heavily for it had been a long day from him. He unlock the door and turns around to lock it, he knew someone was in his house.

"Hello, John," Mycroft greeted. He turned on the lights and saw John sitting on one of the armchairs.

"Do you know your niece is taking illegal drugs?" John asked as he cross his arms on his chest.

Mycroft sigh and set down the umbrella, "Is that why you have come here?"

John shook his head, "Your niece was found at the graveyard drugged, and they had to call me to pick her up."

Mycroft sat the armchair opposite of John and looks at him, "I know she's been using those drugs… I try to have her stop but she's been pushing away from everyone."

John shook his head, "No, I don't think you're trying hard enough."

"What do you want me to do then?" Mycroft asked him.

John shrugs, "I don't know sent her to rehab."

Mycroft took a long breathe, "Do you think it will be easy for me to send her to that place?"

"You sent your brother to rehab; shouldn't it be easy for you?"

Mycroft shook his head, "Did you really think it was easy for me to abandon him there?"

"After Jennalie's death Sherlock was taking over 20 illegal drugs, he wasn't able to support his daughter…" Mycroft trailed off.

"But don't you see? Scarlett is going through the same thing," John raised his voice.

"That is why I'm sending her to New York."

John raised a brow, "New York?"

Mycroft's nods, "I just come back from New York, I met your niece Joan and she told me she is willing to be Scarlett's sober companion."

"Why choose Joan?" John leans back to his chair.

"She reminds me of you actually and I thought it will good for Scarlett."

John nods his head with approval, "True."

Mycroft got up from his seat, "Well then, I'll have someone take you back home," he smiles down at him and got up his phone.

"You told me you and Sherlock had 'too much history between us' does that history has something to do with Jennalie?" John asked.

Mycroft stops and slowly turns to John, "What makes you think of that?"

John shrugs, "Just curious."

Mycroft sigh and sat back down to his chair, "Sherlock and I never got long, we were always competing who was better in deduction, and of course I made fewer mistakes than him. One day Jennalie enter his life and honestly I was never interested in her, but when I saw how she treated my brother I was resentful. Jennalie was different from other girls she told us that we had an unusual gift which made us special," Mycroft smiles.

"When she found out she was having Scarlett she asked for help. She was scared telling Sherlock so she asked me if there was any place she could stay for a while. I took that offer, took her to the Holmes's summer house and took care of her. After a couple weeks I had feelings for her so I propose to her…"

"You what?" John yells.

But Mycroft raised his hand, "When I propose to her she turned me down and said she was loyal to Sherlock and no one else. I asked her why she had left him in the first place and she told me, "I never left him". I never understood her really, but I had to accept the fact that she loves my brother not me."

"Did Sherlock know about it?" John asks.

Mycroft nods, "Obviously,"

"How did he take it?"

Mycroft gave him a Holmes's signature smile, "What do you think?"

John looks down at the floor not knowing how to respond to that question. Mycroft got up from his chair, "I think we should end here John."

John nods his head, "I think so too."

"You're welcome to visit Scarlett anytime, before she moves to New York."

"When will she be moving?"

"In two weeks."

After a week, John arrives at Mycroft's place and knocks on the door. A house maid opens the door and lets him in.

"Is Scarlett here?"

The maid nods her head, "She's in her room."

John gave her a quick nod and walk up the stairs. While walking up the stairs he could hear a violin playing softly. At first he thought it was Sherlock then remembered that his best friend was no longer in this world. When he opens Scarlett's door gently he saw Scarlett standing in the middle of the room playing her father's violin.

Scarlett stops playing and does not bother to turn around, "Hello, John," she greeted.

"Didn't know you played the violin," John points out as he sat on her chair.

Scarlett smirks, "Played for the violin for 5 years actually, dad never liked me to play it in front of him."

"How come?" John looks at her with confusion.

"Because I was better than him," she gave him a weak smile.

She walks over to her bed where the empty case was laid and she slowly placed her violin in the case.

"You have always been clever than me," she whispers and John looks at her.

Scarlett turns to him and smiles, "That was the last words he said to me."

Scarlett closed the case and placed in on the floor, "Did you know dad name his violin after my mum?"

John shook his head, "No."

She nods her head, "Of course, dad has never been open about her."

John looks around her room and saw some boxes being packed.

"Are you moving?" he asked.

Scarlett nods, "Moving to New York next week. Going to attend school there."

John raised a brow, "I thought you weren't planning to go."

Scarlett chuckled, "Nor did I… but I want to do something to keep my mind busy."

"You're niece is going to be my sober companion," Scarlett adds.

John nods, "Yeah, she told me."

Scarlett sat on her bed and was now facing John, she saw the scar mark on his cheek and looks at him with shame, "I'm sorry what happened John."

John shook his head, "It's alright Scarlett… you were grieving."

Scarlett breathe heavily, "I've always thought I could live without him, but each day it became hard for me to believe he's gone and the first time in my life I'm nothing without him."

John sat there speechless not knowing what to say to her.

"Do you know what I really hate?"

John shook his head.

"I've always hated when people tell me, 'You're just like your dad except you're more human.' I've always hated when people say that to me because to me it seems like their saying he was never human, but John he was."

John looks at her with apology look, "I know," he whispers.

"He was the best father I could ever ask for," she choked up and started crying.

John got up from his seat and wraps her around his arm, "You know he told me to tell you that he loves you."

Scarlett glanced up at him, "What?"

John smiles down at her, "He said you were the best thing he ever had."

Scarlett chuckles, "Really?"

John nods at her, "Really."

Scarlett wipes away her tears with her hands, "I'm glad he got to say those words… before…."

"Me too."

They both looked at each other and smiles. John gave her a quick hug and got up from the bed, "Promise one thing for me."

"What is it?"

"That you will write to me."

Scarlett nods her head and smiles, "I will."

John smiles at her while Scarlett got up from bed and started stretching, "So going on that date with Mary?"

John chuckles, "You're really a Holmes's"

Scarlett smiles at him, "Of course! I'm Scarlett Holmes the daughter of the great consulted detective.

**This is the end of "Sherlock: The Adventures of Scarlett Holmes"**

**I am planning to write two stories one is Scarlett meeting "The Doctor" and another one will take place three years after The Fall.**

**Thank you to everyone who review, followed, and read my stories.**

**:)**


	21. New Story

Hey Everyone!

I just upload a new story it's called, "Elementary, my dear Watson".

It will be about Scarlett and Joan solving crimes in New York.

Go Check it out!

Thank you

/s/8850143/1/Elementary-part-1


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